Did you say voodoo ?
by Wildweasel
Summary: Sequel to Man in the morgue. Booth faces his worst nightmare & the possible loss of his own identity. Will Brennan be able to put aside her own beliefs to get him thru this? In a turmoil of events she'd have to follow him where she never thought she'd go.
1. nightmares

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or any of its characters. **

_**This is my first fic since a long time. I have already written a couple of chapter, so if you want more just say so. The mistake are all mine though I'm not a native speaker, so please forgive the spelling or grammar. Feel free to review. Give me your thoughts and even advices( about expression,...) if you have some, it would always help me.**_

Part one

His dream was fuzzy, somehow blurry as he couldn't make it of what was really going on. He woke up bathed in sweat, wondering where he was. That's how he started to remember, he was in his room in his apartment, and he had one of his ongoing nightmares about... "About what", he considered it a moment. He should remember, but nothing came up. He knew this was really uncommon for him not to recall something. He'd always gotten a good memory.  
He got up from the bed, to head to the bathroom, but instead he crashed loudly on the floor. His legs had given up beneath him. His head was thumbing, and he felt heavy and weak. He pushed on his arms to lift him up, but he couldn't. His breathing was loud, and he could feel his body shaking from the cold sweat dampening his back.

He laid still, face down, choosing to take a brief rest before another try. His thoughts wondered to Bones and his son Parker. They were the ones he loved more than anything on earth. He knew his son was aware of his daddy's feelings. But for Bones it was another matter. He never really told her how he loved seeing her smile and the way she stared at him when he was arguing with her. And, sometimes he argued only to see her staring with that quizzical look. He smiled, his body was aching everywhere, but the thought of Bones made him feel stronger.  
Time to get up, he decided. He brought his legs slowly to his chest, his forehead still resting on the carpet. With one hand he reached for the bed to aid him to stand up. At first he put some of his weight on his left leg. He could feel his tight burning, like he had run a marathon. He winced as he brought his other leg closed to the first, and put his weight on it, managing to keep his balance.

"Okay, Seel, go easy, and you'll be just fine. Remember you knew how to walk before this morning", he whispered, joking to soften the situation.

Then, he walked to the wall slowly. Breathing hard, he leant to the wall to ease his unsteady steps and made it finally to the bathroom. He managed to keep his stance by grabbing the sink with both hands. He turned the water on. Bending to the sink, he plunged his face under the cold water. He sighed at the relieve from his burning forehead. As he stood up, water dropped on his shoulders and to the floor, dripping from his wetted brown hair.  
He looked in the mirror. His image was pale. He had dark circles around his eyes. He sighed, not a good night sleep in two weeks had to let some marks. His eyes closed, he breathed slowly. He had to calm himself, or he would be of no use to anyone today. Even so, the pounding in his head didn't stop. He sprinkled more water on his face and as the feeling was not going to disappear, he opted for a hot shower.

It was early in the morning, but he didn't think a sweet dream was awaiting him anyway. He managed to get rid off his under wear without falling and sat in the hot water, waiting for the shaking to stop. Slowly, he regained a bit of strength. He was feeling better. It was like the warm water was washing away the morbid feelings of the nightmare.  
His phone chose that moment to ring. Sighing loudly, he got out quickly, unfortunately he was too weak and to slow to make it on time. He rubbed a tow around his waist, and headed to his bedroom. Then, he reached for his cell phone near his wet and cold pillow. On the caller id, he saw Bones' name lighting like a bengal light in the night, his own shining light. He smiled. Is she psychic ? He marveled for a second, though she left a message. She would probably begin to worry about why he hadn't answered. Therefore, he pressed the touch of his answering machine.

"Uh, Booth, sorry to wake you up so soon ..." at her voice she was surely at her office at the Jeffersonian. It wasn't a surprise for Booth, since he knew her, she was always working, probing some bones, days and nights without distinction of the hour. She couldn't make the obvious difference between vacation and work.

"I have something for you, about the leg you brought me yesterday. I discussed with Hodgins and we may have a possibility to trace where you may find the whole body. I'd like to talk more about the details, but I don't really like to talk about the case on phone. Therefore, if you're not too busy" she said, emphasizing her last word, "I'll be in my office... As always" she sighed and hanged up.

From the sound of her words, Booth could swear she was not pleased to talk to his answering machine. Hell, that woman was going to make him crazy.

He recalled about the leg he had found the day before. As usual after a hard day he had gone to his gym club to work out. Just as he was leaving the club, he had heard people arguing in the alley on his right. The cop inside him had taken the relay, and he had gone to check. When he'd entered the dark alley, a black cat had crossed his legs making him tumbling to the watery ground. He'd sworn as he'd gotten scratches on his palms. The front of his favorite sweater had been wetted by the fall, that had made him angry. Though he'd been back to be serious when he saw two men struggling near a trash can. One of them had a package under his arm and was trying to keep it out of reach. Then, the other had drawn something out of his pocket. Suddenly, Booth had heard the characteristic sound of blade out of its socket. He yelled at the men and pulled out his gun in the same time. Aiming at the aggressor, Booth had seen the man take a run, probably scared by his presence. Then, Booth had walked to the victim. While approaching, he'd seen the man taking steps back. That's why Booth had decided to be very cautious with the man as he stepped closer. Fear lurked in the man's eyes. He was small and unsure in his way to address to Booth. Booth had tried to calm the man down. But in the end the man had started to run as well, throwing his wrapped package to Booth. Surprised, he had almost left the object fall. But his reflexes had allowed him to grab the thing, and as he had squeezed it to get a grip, he'd felt a cold liquid dripping on his hands. He'd laid the package on the ground. That'd been when he had noticed the liquid on his hands was blood. With a bad feeling, he'd unwrapped the package. A disgusted look appeared on his face, as he had seen the human leg, the skin been torn off.

He shivered, the warmth of the shower was vanishing with every seconds. He rubbed himself up with the tow he had left hanging over his shoulders and pressed Brennan's caller id.

He had not even the time to hear one ring that she was on the other side. "Booth ?" she asked. "Yeah, sorry I was under the shower when you called ", he replied and winced as he heard his cranky voice.

"Oh, that's ok, I assumed I was going to wake you up"

"So, what about the body ?" he asked nervously.

"I've left you a message for that, though I'll have more information by the time you'll be here"

"Bones, I can't right now, besides the fact the sun is not even up, I have a lot of things to do. So we'll talk later about the 'details', I'll catch up with you this afternoon, okay ?" he said hoping she'll buy his lie. He clearly needed time to get back to normal. The fatigued features he'd seen in the bathroom would worry anyone who didn't know him, so Bones, Jesus,she would be on his back at the second she'll catch a glimpse of him.

"oh uh, ok if you have better things to do..." she let out, her voice filled with disappointment.

"Just keep me inform, will you ? You can still reach me on my cell phone, bye." Then he hung up leaving her without any time to argue.

She was probably going to be upset after the way he finished the conversation, but for the moment, he chose it was better for him to have an upset Brennan than a worried Brennan bursting in his apartment her brain full of questions he wouldn't want to answer.  
Maybe he was becoming crazy. Tough what ever he was dealing with, it was his problem, and he'd get over it as he always did. He closed his eyes, his breathing had become more regular and his pulse was getting back to normal. He sighed maybe today would be as ordinary as it should have start.

A scream jerked him. He looked around. Nobody was there. His windows were closed. Therefore, the scream couldn't have come from outside. It was more like some memories were back in the present. A recall from his nightmare. He remembered now. It was dark, like a night without moon. Too dark, a man and a snake near some kind of bizarre tree. Why did he remember that spider anyway ? Maybe, because it looked like a brown widow, he guessed, as the one he'd seen in New Orleans last year. He hated spiders. In the nightmare he remembered running, more fleeing. Something was after him, chasing him. As the memories became more and more alive, he could feel the sweat dripping on his back like some kind of crawling spider. He shook the haze of the nightmare.

"Stay focus, Seel !" he breathed loudly . He checked the glowing digits of the clock near the bed, 6:12. Maybe after a good breakfast he'd feel better. So, he grabbed his paints and a pair of new socks, with black and blue strips, as well as a light blue shirt and managed to get dress despite his shaking hands.

Ten minutes later, he was opening his fridge looking for eggs. His thoughts wandered to Brennan and their brief talk. Today was going to be a tough day, he sighed.

At the Jeffersonian, the day had begun by the worst thing Brennan could imagine. Booth was mad at her, and she had no clue of why and how it happened.

"Sweetie, you should have gone home last night." uttered Angela, sitting on the couch. Brennan shot her a 'don't go this way' look that would have scared anyone. However, Angela was not a woman to be scared that easily, especially when it was coming from her best friend.

"You know, making yourself alone and miserable, won't help you get back with your life" stated coldly Angela. She knew Brennan needed to be shaken sometimes when it was about Booth.

"He'd be here as he promises", she said smoothening a bit.

"I know" answered Brennan.

"I kind of sense a but ?" wondered Angela.

"Something in his voice was different. Booth would say it's a gut feeling, I can't explain, it's..." she said, seeking her words.

"Like he was holding back something from you ?"

"Yes! How do you know ?" asked Brennan, amazed.

"Oh come on, sweetie ! Booth's a man ! An overprotective, knight in shining armor bodyguard. Besides you two have a special bond."

"We are partners, nothing more Ange !" defended Brennan. She rose behind her desk. Staring at her friend, she headed to the couch as to seek some papers.

"Temperance, it's obvious you two have something special. Call it a partnership if you want, but because of that bond, Booth will not open up if it may hurt you, sweetie !" she said softly.

"Okay if you want my advice..." continued Angela, as she saw her point had made its way through Brennan. "Let him come to you. When the time comes, he'll talk. Till this moment you have to wait and not push him away " Angela advised as she met Brennan's eyes.

They were shaded, full of understanding. "Come on, let's get some coffee !" she put a hand on Brennan's shoulders and drove her out of her office.


	2. dream or reality ?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or any of its characters. **

_I've just finished to correct the second chapter so voila..._

_Thanks for the reviews, I love hearing from you guys._

Keys in hand Booth turned at the corner and almost barged into Cullen. His boss gazed at him.

"Agent Booth, I expected your report by this morning. Would you care to share with me why is it not on my desk already ?" asked Cullen.

The man was one you couldn't play fool with him and elude a question by a dumb excuse.

"Sir, we had an update on the case. I was heading to the Jeffersonian to get the input from the squints squad " indicated Booth. That was a part true though. He had been too tired to stay focus and the report was still partly blank on his computer.

"So your pretty forensic squint has new evidences ?"

"Yes sir. I was on my way to see her"

"I guess your report will be ready for tomorrow then" declared Cullen.

"Sure" Cullen gazed at Booth noticing how pale his agent looked. His suit looked like he had slept in, even his hairs were messed up. That was weird for someone well clothed as Booth, excepted his eccentricity with his tie and his cocky belt. Cullen wondered how much sleep the man had in the last days.

"Whatever happens, remember guns and squints don't match !" declared Cullen, leaving Booth in the corridor.

"Like I could stop a hurricane to blow " whispered Booth. His thought brought him back to Brennan and the day she managed to carry her big gun besides her tiny wonder woman outfit. He winced as he recalled being shot in the leg by the same gun.

As he stood near the elevator, his index pressed on the call button. Still lost in his thoughts, he wondered if facing Bones would be easy. Looking at her deep blue eyes, would not help him to lie to her. Perhaps if he could lead the talk to the case she wouldn't ask him about this morning. He exited from the elevator and headed to his car. He clicked on his key. The car responded like a loyal dog. He was really not in his shoes today. It was noon, and he was already growing tired and tensed. He sat behind the wheel, and his sight yearned at the mirror. His features looked tensed and white, as he'd become some kind of vampire. His eyes were red and circled by dark lines. He sighed, turned on the engine and drove out the parking lot.

"Hey Booth !" yelled Angela from the evidences platform. "Oh man, you look terrible !" she exclaimed, "Brennan is in her office if you are looking for her".

"Thanks, Angela" answered Booth. He didn't even bother to look at the others as they were all staring at him, like he was walking from his tomb. Hodgins exchanged a "what the hell is happening" look with Angela . As their eyes met, they could see they were both worried for the special agent.

A knock on her glass door, drew Brennan from her writing on her computer. She expected to see Hodgins with the results from the soil samples they found on the leg. She stayed stunned to digest the picture she had in front of her. The man she saw in the doorway was not the self confident and the strong cocky man she used to argue with. He looked more like a shadow of himself.

"Hi, Booth " she remembered Angela's advice and asked the second question she had in mind.

"Did you receive my email ?" she bitted her lips to not think about Booth's appearance. She worried for him. Something was really happening to him, and she couldn't help him if he said nothing to her.

"Hi, yes I did, with all the ' details " he grinned. She hadn't asked him about his look, perhaps she hadn't noticed it yet. Before entering her office, he had tried to shake his brain to have a clear mind but that hadn't been that successful. So he had chosen to hide his awkwardness with his best smile. 'You have to try, if you want to know if it works !' would have said his dad. So he tried and with that small hope, Booth had gone into her office. His pace cautious as he recalled this morning.

Brennan listed the elements they found and began explaining how they got the soil samples. Booth sat in the couch, almost crashing into it, while listening to Brennan. She frowned. Booth seemed too tired for just a weekend exhaustion. Something was going on. And this time it was not a ' gut feeling', but the facts were right in front of her. She resumed her analyze. At the end of each sentence, she glanced subtlety at Booth. At several occasions, his eyes shut. For sometimes he tried to fight sleep, as he did his features became more and more tensed. Then his eyes jerked open. Worries drew a line on her forehead at each time he was slumping into the great oblivion and fight to stay conscious. At the end of her conclusions, Booth tried to hide a yawn with one hand. "So, you think the cuts are due to a saw and with the samples Hodgins found you may pinpoint the exact location of the crime scene " concluded Booth.

"Yes, that's what I've just said !" declared Brennan, puzzled that he caught all she had said in the sleeping state he was. Booth amazed her everyday. He was not like the other agents she had to work with, behind his cocky smile, he had his way to simplify things and put it in a more human perspective.

Zack interrupted them as he rushed in her office, his face slightly feverish. "Sorry doctor Brennan, there's something you should see on the pl...bones." he muttered between his teeth. He walked off as soon as he finished the sentence expecting her tutor to be on his heels. And he was right. She almost ran behind, leaving Booth alone, staring at the ceiling. 'That was his Bones ' he grinned.

Booth stayed there sitting on the couch in the hope to get some rest before she rushes back with new inputs. The ceiling had been painted a long time ago, he noticed. At some place, he could see darker spots. A job probably unfinished by the paints. Few minutes passed. His head tilted behind, resting on the couch. Booth couldn't detach his sights from the creamy board. The entire place began to blur. A strange form started to take shape before him. He recognized the face for being in his recurrent nightmare. Voices rumbled in Booth's head. Tired lines appeared on his forehead as the place spun. Dizziness took over. His eyelids closed slowly as he slumbered into the dream again.

He was alone once again. A moon glowed above him in the night. His eyes were attracted by the light, like a night butterfly to the flame. Then he realized he was standing in a middle of a stinky swamp. He was bare foot and could feel the cold from the mud penetrating his flesh and stinging the bottom of his paints. A shill ran down his spine. He remembered the place. Croaking crows landed on a lonely tree few feet away on his left. An awful stench of gas was escaping from the giant roots which soared from the damp soil. The whole place smelled like hell's gate. Bile raised to his mouth. He felt weak again.

Loosely hung to the tree was a corpse dressed in a white shirt and black paints. The top was stained with blood. His head tilted, in recognition of the man. It couldn't be. Before him, the hanged man was a scarecrow. But his heart raced in his chest as he faced a picture of himself stung on the scarecrow's face. A shadow appeared in front of him. Guttural words growled out the dark man's mouth. He could swear he knew that man.

"That's a nightmare Seel, nothing is real" he repeated to himself.

"You are quite right agent Booth" throw the dark man, "but you're wrong for one thing. Even a dream can sink reality into your soul. And for that you are going to endure the true meaning of black magic. Let's just say I am is messenger" laughed at the man.

He was dressed in some kind of large colored ceremonial suit, as some kind of freaking dark priest. He walked to Booth and drew a bone like knife from his belt. Booth tried to step back but his feet were stung into the heavy mud. Anger overwhelmed him as he realized his hands were bound behind him. Though he wasn't remembering being tied when he saw the tree. Then the priest pronounced an incantation, and tore Booth's shirt, revealing his bare chest. Booth's heart beat hard as his body tensed preparing for the stab. Instead the dark priest, played with the knife, caressing his ribs. Booth's eyes darted to the priest. The cold bony blade gave Booth a chill as it ran from his abdomen to his throat. Mumbled words escaped from the priest throat. Then he drew a red line as he cut deeply into Booth left shoulder to his neck. Blood dripped from the wound to Booth's chest. Satisfied, the priest returned to the tree and stabbed the puppet with the blade.

"Now you're almost complete," he said addressing to the scarecrow. He turned to Booth, the blade covered of his blood. A delirious smile crossed his face. "Let's the magic begin !" he bawled, and uttered unintelligible words to Booth.

From the tree he extracted a black wire and lighted it up. With a mad smile on his face, he turned to the scarecrow. As soon as the burning wire touched the scarecrow, it blazed entirely. The priest lasting words echoed in Booth's head and suddenly his body reacted violently. Starting with hands shaking, his head pounded loudly. Booth heaved as he felt his entire body burning from the inside. He wanted to scream but nothing came out. 'What the hell is that ?' he tried to focus on the priest but his view faded as the burning deepened to his flesh. The pain soared with each seconds. He felt his legs giving up and fell to his knees. It was hard to breath. His thoughts turned to Bones. How could he be in this place as he remembered being in her office ? He gasped for air. His lungs were on fire. He tried to talk. "Bones" he barely whispered. Fire was eating him from inside. Even the cold mud was now hot under him. His body rolled in the wet grass, but only smoke came out of him. A small cloud enveloped him. He was going to die, alone in this stenchy swamp. He wondered if she would find how he died.

"This is good Zack !" declared Brennan, as she looked at the bones in front of her. Zack proudly showed a giant smile to Hodgins, his lips forming a king of the lab silently. Hodgins glanced at him with a serious sight few seconds before intervening.

"We discovered also that the fur it's from red foxes, but I have to check the remaining samples to tell you if it was actual fox or from a clothe. I'll know more after I run other tests. Then I guess it would help you and Booth to find the crime scene if it's from a living animal" he turned around catching Brennan look. "Where is the man anyway ? I believed he would be interested to know that kind of details ".

Brennan glanced behind her " He must be in my office, looking at my report" she lied. Something was strange lately with him, and the fact he wasn't staring to the evidence over her shoulders was another proof of it.

She walked down the stairs, "I'm going to inform Booth, you two finish your test" and headed to her office. Her heart started to beat faster as she approached her office. She shook her worries away, this was not factual. As she entered her eyes scanned the room and stopped to Booth on the couch. She sighed, he was probably sleeping, and she scared for nothing. He looked like he needed it anyway. She sat in front of him, wondering if she should wake him up. She motioned to touch his shoulder and frown as she noticed dark stains around his neck. She opened slightly his vest and stared at the blood staining his shirt.

"Booth" she called, looking to his face. His features were torn and sweating. His wet hair stinging to his neck. His breathing rasped and unsteady. "Wake up, Booth" she almost yelled, but he was not moving. Her hand touched his right cheek. She felt his skin burning under her fingers. He was too hot to just have a fever. "Hodgins, Angela" she called out with a panicked voice. She tried to take Booth's vest off, but she only managed to get his left arm out. His head rolled to her shoulder.

Zack and Hodgins entered the room at the same time, followed quickly by Angela. They stopped as they stared at the scene in front of them. Brennan on her knees in front of a sleeping Booth almost half laid on her.

"I need you to help me take him to lab three" she urged.

"But why do you need us to..." began Zack, he couldn't finish his sentence as Hodgins had elbowed him in the ribs, full aware of the situation "Come on, Zack, let's hurry !"

Hodgins glanced at Booth then at Brennan, "let us take him, we will go faster" he said pointing to her shoulder where Booth was leaning heavily. Hodgins was right. He was too heavy for her. So she let Hodgins' arm rolled over her shoulder. As he proceeded, he was now able to sustain a part of Booth's weight. Zack on the other side, was struggling to keep in place Booth's left arm. Finally, they both raised as one and managed to put the FBI agent on his feet. But not for as long as they assumed. When they were almost at the door, Hodgins and Zack felt suddenly Booth slumping heavily from their grips. It was a real fight for them to stand and to support him at the same time. At the end they counterbalanced his weight, so they could drag him from Brennan's office. Brennan was just behind them. Angela was standing by the door, tears forming in her eyes, "what's happening, guys ?" she asked worries in her voice.

"Ange, we're heading to lab three, bring all the IV line you'll find... " voiced Brennan.

Following the boys, she observed anxiously Booth's legs sliding limply on the ground. He should have woken up by now. Fear gripped her forming a knot inside her throat. At least he should have opened his eyes or pronounced a word or whatever that would do a somewhat alive man. Brennan's heart squeezed as the meaning began to sink into her thoughts. He was dying, or he would have given her a response, a sign of some kind. But all she could see, was an unconscious Booth dragged hardly by two squints as he liked to call them.

Arriving near the lab three, Brennan preceded them and headed to the cold room. Pulling the door, coolness infused the atmosphere. As she suppressed a small chill, Brennan helped Zack who was already crushed under Booth, to install him on the icy floor. Her hand supporting his head, she felt his damped hair on her fingers. She eased him carefully to the ground, like a toddler. His eyes were closed, and he still wasn't moving. But above all, his features were torn by great pain. It hurt her to see him unmoving and in visible pain. Like a storm, Angela rushed into the cold room, and sat near Brennan. " Sweetie, I have the IV you've asked. What do you want me to do ?" she asked.

Brennan looked up and took the IV as Angela was handed them to her.

"First" analyzed coldly Brennan, as she breath deeply to calm herself, "we must re hydrated him and cooled him" she said. She had to focus on the fact, her only way to cope with the situation, 'involvement will only decrease my objectivity ' she persuaded herself. In the same time, she pulled off a needle and inserted into the IV, keeping the secured bag on place. Angela imitated her friend with another one and gave it to her. Then, Brennan carefully sting the syringe inside Booth's right arm. And slightly turned the trigger on. She repeated the act with the second IV on his left arm.

While this time, Zack and Hodgins had gathered coverts and brought it back near Booth. "For you" pointed Hodgins "he needs to cool off, but if you stay here, you'll need to keep your warmth" he grinned "So are you ?". Brennan stared at him "Am I what ?", "Stay with him when we will close the door ? will you ?" "cause you are going to ask us to close that door, am I right?"

"Yes" stated obviously Brennan, her look inspecting Booth movement and breathing.

Then she glanced back to Hodgins, with a 'what are you waiting for ?' the bug guy caught Angela's hand and drove her out of the cold room. " Zack, let's go !" he commanded. He glanced back at Brennan and started to close the door. "The ambulance will soon arrive" Angela threw, as the door shut.

Now she had to wake Booth, his silence being too weird. "Booth don't leave me, please " she pleaded.

Alone as the coldness began to sink beneath her clothes, she felt so helpless without him. 'Stay focus' she repeated to herself. Then considering her partner laying still below her, she began to remove his tie and opened his shirt to free his neck and help him to breath. His breathing was low and irregular. As her hands checked his vitals, she could sense his heart beating fast. Then she decided to take off his shirt. She had trouble at first. The clothe wet and sliding between her hands. His head rolled to Brennan's side, eyes shut. Finally, after some struggles, Booth laid shirtless, still unconscious. A long red line was drawn from his neck to his left shoulder. She pressed his shirt onto the cut. It wasn't going to help a lot as the cut wasn't threatening his life. But at least it helped her believing she was of some use. It saddened her to see him so vulnerable. A tear rolled over her cheek and dropped to Booth's face. Her gut tightened as she lingered over Booth. Her hands cuddling his head, she leant her head touching Booth's ear.

"Come on, mister alpha male special agent. Show me you're one tough guy, or are you going to surrender without a fight" she almost yelled at him. " Booth, you can't yield on me." her voice flinched as she thought she had seen him move an eyelid. "that's right Booth, open your eyes for me..."

A voice called him, a voice he knew. But couldn't put a face on it. It was so dark over here. Pain was all his world, all he seemed to have ever known. Still that voice was like an anchor, something he got a hold on. The agony had started to wear off. Silence had replaced his screams. In front of him the priest appeared, a vicious glare on his face. "It seems we're not alone anymore, agent Booth" he smirked, bending over Booth's aching body. Booth was now curled on the grass, "we will finish our business later". Catching Booth's hair with one hand, he jerked his head backwards. Booth could smell the priest's repugnant whiff as he came closer to his face. A horrible smile covered his face "as we have to short our transaction, I don't want you to feel left over. I suppose a little reminder would be ... appropriate" he said pondering his words, evil plans lurking beneath his glare. As so he grabbed the now extinguished wire and battered the scarecrow right into the chest, smiling. With each blows, Booth curled more and more, only hoping this would end soon.

Her embrace tightened as she felt Booth shaking. It seemed they were here for hours. But her objective mind translated into several minutes. Since his first life sign, she was waiting for him to open his eyes and talk. His fever had begun to decrease and for that Brennan was very happy. Still, she preferred to keep a physical contact with him. It would help him to keep a mental grip on something real, her. That's why she had put herself in a sitting position, and had leant Booth's upper body to her, cuddling him with her arms.

A long moan pulled her from her thoughts. A part of Booth's head was resting on her left shoulder, leaving only his left side to see what was happening. She loosened her hold a bit and gazed at him. "I'm here Booth. Can you open your eyes for me ." It was like following orders during his old sniper time, thought Booth, but this time it was hard to stay focus on the idea. With a great amount of effort, his eyelids slowly cracked open. As she watched him fighting to focus his sight, she noticed the dull pain behind his pupils. A strain of blood slid from the corner of his lips as he tried to speak. Only a faint "Bones" came out. She smiled to him as she shoved the blood away with her thumb. Her hand resting on his cheek. Long minutes passed as they laid there, resting. She sensed him getting stronger as the heat was wearing off his body.

Booth's gaze finally focused on Brennan and frown. "It's okay" he comforted her, showing a weak smile. The world was now clear around him. He breathed deeply as to clear his mind. Then he noticed his position, shirtless in Brennan's arms. His face flushed. "What have you done ?" he whispered. His voice a bit anxious.

"The right question would be, what's happening to you, Booth" she answered back .

"I'm too tired" he said avoiding the subject, his eyes now watching with intensity the ceiling, "I haven't got much sleep lately, that's all". He repressed a chill.

"Like a dream could graze at your shoulder and heat you up !" she voiced, angry " Tell me where that cut is from ?".

He rolled on his side breaking their embrace. One hand pushing on the floor, the other still hanged onto Brennan's, "It was just exhaustion" he affirmed, "Though it's not your business anyway " he added getting annoyed. "I'm your partner !" grumbled Brennan "of course it's my business". She was going to argue more but dropped it when she saw him moving.

Booth tried to stand up, but he only managed to sit as his hand on the ground slipped under him. His face now close to Brennan. He could sense her warm breath caressing his cheek. A soothing sensation roused from inside him. Unaware of Booth's discomfort, Brennan plunged her eyes inside him. He felt her worries and focused on a way to get out of here without too many questions.

"Where are we ?" he wondered. A quick look around made him dizzy. He swallowed and stared at Brennan. Her eyes seeking answers from his face. "Look, I'm sorry. You're right. But there's nothing to tell, I'm fine, Bones, really" he said giving her his best smile considering his current state. He meant it, he thought.

With the nightmare disappearance, he felt his strength coming back slowly and decided to leave the cold ground for a more civilized atmosphere next to the metallic wall. One hand on the wall, he raised slowly. He leant on the wall for a while, one shoulder pressed against the frozen board. It was cold on the touch, but he had no sensation at all. Feeling an intense heat coming from his body. His sight caught his shirt wrapped on the floor. He didn't really need it to get warm but more to get back to a normal state. So he bent to grab it and winced. his side hurting. As he headed slowly to the door, he dressed his left arm and felt a soaring pain invading his chest. It was like a knife wiggling into his side. Probably, a broken rib, he thought.

Brennan followed him with her eyes. She really cared for him, but how he could drive her from joy to total anger was just really annoying. Now, he was going to leave and behaved like nothing happened. "Don't walk away from me Booth... We are partners !" she stated, raising to her feet. "I deserve a better explanation if at least you can't give me the whole truth".

Booth turned to face her, his gaze crossed her eyes. "I can't", he answered, "I don't know" he sighed. His brows got close. "When I'll have an explanation, you'll be the first to know ! Does that answer your question ?"

Startled by Booth's answer, Brennan closed her jaws and gazed at him for a long time. Unsure of what to add, Booth preferred to wait for her to make the first move.

"As your partner, I don't expect least than what you've just promised, Booth. But as a friend, you shouldn't need any clear facts to talk to me." she claimed. Leaving Booth voiceless, she turned on her heels and opened the metallic door.

Cautious, he followed her outside. The squint's squad was waiting for them, sitting on the rail grip. Their gazes showed a lot of relieve as Booth walked out. His cocky smile back on his face.

"Agent Booth" called a male voice from the left. "This way sir" said the voice. As Booth turned, a medic took his right arm and led him to sit on the ground, a medic box in hands. "Let's check yours vitals, sir, then we'll see if you need the ambulance."

Understanding, he couldn't go before that check up, Booth surrendered to the medic's argument.

"Let's do that in my office" proposed Brennan. She showed them the way, and sat in the couch on one side of the table, the medic and Booth on the other side. As he sat Booth favored his left side. The medic began by taking his pulse, which was quite high.

His tension on the contrary was really low, "That would have explained your lost of consciousness earlier", stated the medic. Finally, he took from him a sample of blood and prepared to leave, with one last question. "I know you don't want to go to the hospital, agent Booth and I can't make it happen against your will, but are you in pain, feeling dizzy ?" he questioned.

"Perhaps you should verify his chest first" said Brennan. Glaring at her, Booth was about to retort something when he stopped as the medic was already asking him to open his shirt. Feeling uneasy, Booth tried to hide his pain with his smile as he unbuttonned his shirt, his gaze still asking 'why ?' to Brennan as the medic started to poke his chest. He muffled a growl when the man touched a painful spot.

"It seems you have two broken ribs, agent Booth" affirmed the medic, a serious look on his face.

"You shouldn't go play around for a while in this state, sir " he claimed, dressing his chest with a tight bandage. Brennan looked at Booth, her sight too much full of 'I knew, you were not well'.

"I'll keep your advice in mind. Besides these broken ribs I feel fine, I guess I don't need any hospital, right " he stated confident.

"At least, sir, do the check up with the doc tomorrow morning. And sir, if you don't, they'll come to pick you up !" said the medic.

Booth sighed "I've got your point !" then he raised and started to head out Brennan's office.

"Let me drive you home" uttered Brennan. The time she grabbed her bag, she was on his heels. When she arrived at his shoulder's height, she whispered to him, "let me help".

Booth's face softened "you, always" he said with a smile, low enough for she'd be the only one to hear. She smiled back, relieved he let her come closer for once. He might come to confide to her eventually, she reassured herself.


	3. where I screamed

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bones or any of its characters.**

Author's note:

I'll hope you will like that chapter, it took me sometimes to gather all the information and do the corrections. Feel free to review and give me your thoughts about the story or how to improve things (even the grammar).

And as always if there's any mistakes there're all mine.

* * *

The ride to Booth's apartment had been very quite as none of them were really about to speak. With the last words Booth had said, Brennan preferred to wait for him to speak first. But now it was teasing her to see him half sleeping. His head lingered on the glass door, his breathing steady. 

A bump on the road made the car moved quickly up and down. Booth cracked his eyes open. To Brennan, he looked really wear off. His features were pale and the look in his eyes had lost the sparkle of life she used to find in it.

A concerned line drew on Booth's forehead has he caught a glimpse of Brennan's sight. With a deep breath, and all his strength he had summoned up, he grinned. A faint smile appeared on the corner of her lips. If he still could make her smile, maybe he wasn't so bad after all, she assumed. She had to trust him. If the role was inverted, she, more than others wouldn't like him to go sneak around.

The car pulled in Booth's alley.

"Thanks " he said, opening the door. His legs sore and aching, as well as his whole body, he steeped out of the car cautiously and grabbed his vest.

"Maybe I could stay a bit, you know, just in case your lack of sleep put you back in..." tried Brennan, she didn't want him to stay alone in case of he lost consciousness again.

"Nah, I'll be fine, I'll see you tomorrow" he threw half way to the hall building, his left hand waving in the air.

"Call me, if you need anything" yelled Brennan as he was almost inside. 'Anything' she whispered to herself.

She looked at her watch. 7:35 pm. She had a lot of things to finish at the Jeffersonian. With a glance to Booth's lightened window, she drove the car off the alley and headed to the museum.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

As soon as Booth entered his apartment, he went to the bathroom. He stripped off all his clothes and the dressing from his ribs and turned the shower on. He let the cold water cooling his flesh. The persistent burn had diminished at first when he woke up inside the cold room. While the little chat with the medic, the hot pain had returned, teasing and soaring beneath his skin. He wanted to scratch so hard his whole body, but he knew it wouldn't turn good, so he let his hands hanged to the tap.

He knew this day was one of those days you should stay on bed. But really, having this nightmare right at Brennan's office was definitely bad luck. Though he had to admit, without her, he could be a roasted corpse in the morgue by now. He let the thought sank in his mind. She asked him the truth, but how could you give it to someone you care for. Even though, everything happened in his mind. From what he knew he could just start to lose it all. What would happen if he began to act crazy . Anyone around might as well be in danger. This thought was just too unbearable for Booth. He'd definitely find a way to solve this alone. Jeopardizing his partner's life was not in his plan at all.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Back at the Jeffersonian's parking lot, Brennan parked her car and froze behind the wheel. A large spot of sweat stained the seat where Booth had been few minutes ago. She shook her head. It meant Booth was still feverish when he left. One more thing the man didn't want her to know. Again he was hiding facts from her. She sighed giving up.

She locked the door and went to the lift. The doors opened on a puzzled Angela. It was not her use to be there so late. She had surely waited for Brennan to show up from Booth's place. Brennan stepped in, her back leant to the wall next to Angela. Her jaws tightened. She wasn't ready for another philosophical talk about Booth. Angela turned to Brennan. She opened her mouth and then just swallowed what she was ready to say when her gaze met Brennan's composure.

A whoosh from the doors warned them they were on their stage. Brennan rushed out the lift and walked to the platform. She drew her id card and slid it in the slot before climbing the stairs. She left her purse on a desk full of samples and reports, and bent over the several pieces of bones she got. She had a lot to catch up before tomorrow.

Angela came by her side, " Sweetie".

"There's nothing to say Ange" interrupted Brennan. "He doesn't want me to get involve, as you said before, he's a tough and knight in shining armor FBI standard issue who wants to take care of whatever is going on in his life, alone !"

"I know, sweetie" said Angela sighing "he's acting like you would for him. You two care a lot about each other," she paused, "Do you believe is going to be okay tonight ?"

"I guess so " had to admit Brennan just as a frown started to form on her face. "He's tough!"

"Yes, he is" confirmed Angela. "I'm sure he's too exhausted to have the wisdom to talk to you, that's all" she added, smirking.

"Are you ironic Ange, because I'm not really in the mood right now" said Brennan, annoyed as she turned to face her friend.

"And sometimes you need someone to remember you that are not made of steel, the same for Booth. You know him, he is a caring man" she stated taking her sweet voice. She wanted to comfort her friend, but as usual Brennan didn't let anyone enter that easily. Angela smiled as her friend was just doing what she reproached to Booth. They were both so alike sometimes.

"I have work Ange, and ... I haven't given up, not yet !" concluded Brennan.

"Okay then. Don't work too late!"

On these words she went to the lift. When the doors closed, Brennan raised her face from the bones she was looking at. Her eyes were wet and sad. She breathed deeply and focused on the cuts on the leg. That're all she could do for now.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

The night had been very long for Booth. Afraid to fall asleep he had watched the TV a part of the night, and when he felt sleep claiming him, he had gone outside for a run. Although his mind needed that run, his body was in no shape for a long run. He ran out of steam about twenty minutes after he busted in the park. The light there was dim and the air humid and cool as the sun wasn't about to rise before few hours. He had opted for a long grey sleeves sweater with a hood and a pair of large sport paints. He hadn't regretted his choice as the weather had changed for light rain. Since the cold shower, his body was switching from cold to hell hot and then back to cold. He had a hard time fighting the shaking that was induced by this sudden change. But right now, he felt he was back in the cooling phase. He threw the hood over his head. He puffed a small cloud of warmth in front of him.

Besides the small dripping of water falling from the threes, the night was quite and peaceful. He had only come across three persons on his way. Two of them were out for their dogs, and the last one, a woman was running as well. She smiled at him when they met at the wood bridge. His cocky side took off as she gave him an interested look. But when she glared at his features, something change in her look. He couldn't put a finger on it.

Finally, he decided he had enough and headed to his apartment taking a muddy track on the left. Which was a bad idea as the mud stuck to his shoes . He was now running with a pair of lead shoes. Drops of sweat bathed his sweater by the time he reached his place.

He rushed in and took the heading to the bathroom. Looking at the mirror, he caught a sight of his face. He wondered if a dead body could look worse than him. His eyes seemed swollen. A deep dark line circled them when his eyelids manage to stay half open. His lips were not red anymore, more closed to a kind of very light pink turning grey. He wondered for few seconds if he shouldn't take sleeping pills. Maybe he wouldn't get any nightmare with them. Finally, he shook the idea off his mind. He pulled off his sweater and turned on the shower.

A knock at the door, obliged him to change his program. He grabbed a tow and throw it nonchalantly over the right shoulder and headed to the entrance. He glanced at his watch, 5:04. He frowned, he wasn't expecting anyone at this hour. The door opened to reveal a tired Brennan behind. She looked like she had been up the whole night. 'Great' thought Booth, 'now she's exhausted too, what a pair! 'Damned Booth can't you do something right for a change !' sighing mentally.

"Bones, what are you doing here so early ? Is everyone okay ?" asked Booth with a concerned voice.

"No" she gazed at him. "Not everyone..." she repeated, her look tired as she noticed his white features and his bruises where he had broken two ribs.

"Who's ..." began Booth.

"You are," she interrupted, her look went through him. His mouth stayed open. He had been taken aback. He stayed still, standing in the doorway. A faint smile appeared slowly. "I'm fine Bones. Thanks for caring but I'm a big boy, I can..."

"...Take care of yourselves. Yes, I know. " she paused.

"May I come in ?" she said as to change the subject, "I've brought bagels and donuts".

He invited her inside. "Of course, Bones you're always welcome." answered Booth, happy to have the chance to talk about something else.

" Make yourself at home, I'll take a quick shower, and I'll be right back." He headed to the bathroom" feel free to turn the TV on" he laughed, his voice disappeared under the sound of waterfalls.

Brennan took time to analyze his apartment. It seemed messy, like a storm had born here. She walked to the TV, stepping over a black bag of clothes near the couch and pressed on the remote. The screen lighted. A woman was showing a new set of spans. From the price that glowed on the right hand corner, it was a real bargain. Brennan pressed for another channel, and found herself facing a giant dinosaur. Forgetting the crowd's scream that ran to escape from giants claws, she stared at the bag down. From her place she could distinguish t-shirts and the usual Booth's colored socks. But it was the shining sparkle of metal in the front pocket that drew her whole attention. The sounds of the shower being turned off, signaled her Booth was about to come out. She settled back inside the couch, watching the screen. The images didn't really make it to her brain, her thoughts spinning tumultuously at the implications.

"How did you know I dreamed about bagels this morning" said Booth, as he walked out the bathroom, a big grin drew on his face .

His hair was wet and messy, giving him a ruffled look. The word sexy, popped in Brennan's mind as he finished to button his shirt. "Bones, watching TV" he peeked, a teasing light in the eyes.

"Are you leaving ?" she asked, worried.

Once more, he had to shut his mouth, wondering how many times she was going to surprise him today. He knew he couldn't elude that question. He would have to tell her sooner or later. "I planned to leave tomorrow, after I have settled few things in the bureau." he finished, his voice low.

She glared at him "and to me, would you have told me you were going to leave us ?" her eyes met his. "Or would you have made up a dumb excuse as you did yesterday ?" she voiced, angry.

Booth didn't speak and stepped to stand few feet from Brennan. "Don't talk like I had tried to hurt you intentionally, because it's not." he said with hurt in his voice. "I wouldn't have left without... " he stopped, his last word hanging out in the air. His eyes stared at Brennan. She could see how exhausted his eyes reflected. "I..." his throat squeezed. He couldn't tell her his feelings like that. Not this way, it would be too cruel. He swallowed and glanced at the table. "Let's taste your bagels, " he said, hoping she'll take the bait. He opened the bag and laid the bagels on a plate he had brought from the kitchen.

Brennan followed him with her eyes. She could swear he had been about to say something that her heart wanted dearly to hear. "We found new 'hints' as you like to call it".

Booth grinned, he had really some influence on her. "From your program"

"Yes, we found the place where the man had been killed or where his leg had been before you bumped into. It's in the Great Dismal Swamp that's why it was difficult to pinpoint the exact place. Too many species. Hodgins had found traces of Wayne's warbler and dwarf trillium. It's a common bird there but the three is only located in the northwestern section."

"So, we may find more of him over there." he added "It's like assembling a puzzle. I need to pick up my car, and we can head there. I'll call the bureau, a team will join us there." He raised, "you give me a ride?"

"I'm sure I can say yes if you need my help !" she stressed ironically. Booth didn't relieve. It was a cold shot he'd have to get use to until he solved his growing problem. In someway, he kind of deserved it, he sighed.

He called his office and set for the team to meet them in thirty minutes, at the Great Dismal Swamp, a muddy and stinky swamp, he thought. He grabbed his vest, and it occured to him that this swamp could be the same as the one he dreamed of. A chill ran down his spine. His gut was telling him to avoid this swamp, but he really had no choices. Besides, even if the last nightmare had affected him, what were the odds this swamp would be the same . 'Infinitely small' would have answered Brennan. Though she would surely point out how this was a non factual thinking.

As they both headed out his apartment, he couldn't suppress a new knot growing inside his stomach. He didn't catch Brennan's gaze, recording all his moves. If he wasn't going to tell her anything, then she'll find out by sticking to him, she promised to herself. Fifteen minutes later, they were at the Jeffersonian switching cars.

oooooooooooooooooooooo 

A lazy sun rose over the hill and shone on the lake. The swamp designed by Hodgins was just beside the main shore. If he wasn't so damned tired, Booth would have enjoyed watching the sun rise with his partner. He closed the door and followed Brennan already ahead of him. Life had its ways to kick you in the side when you'd least expected, he thought. They were here in this beautiful sight to recover what ... body parts. Booth's gut twisted as he recalled the bloody leg he unwrapped two days ago in the street.

A couple of Federals cars and trucks were stuck along the main road. They already had deployed the official 'do not cross line' and agents were searching around. Booth bent down. He pulled the stripe over his shoulder. His boots made a splash as he stepped in. Walking on this land induced his heart to beat quicker in his chest. His breathing started to increase. He pulled himself together, and resumed his pace.

Far away, Brennan was in great conversation with an agent. She glanced at Booth assuming she'd find him beside her, his notebook open and ready. Instead she saw him glaring around as he looked for something. 'Of course' she reminded her, he was seeking the body parts as everyone. Still, something in his way to stand and walk looked... She pondered her thoughts. He looked uneasy, she decided, and that was definitely not the cocky Booth she knew.

He was almost closed to her when another agent yelled on her right he had just found something. Both looked in the same direction, when a second call came from the opposite side. It wasn't this second call that gave Booth to freak out.

The second agent was over a hundred yard on his right, and when he looked there, his eyes met a terrible tree he had engraved in his memory. The naked tree cut through the sunlight turning light into cold shadows drawing snakes crawling on the ground. The scarecrow was not hung anymore, but a crow was standing on his lonely wire, eyes darting at Booth like predator. His body started to shake at the memories of the torture. He gulped and turned to check if Brennan was there. He saw her, a knee down staring at something in the grass. If she was standing there, it meant he was not back in the dream. A sigh of relief ran through his body. He closed his hands to make the shaking stop and walked to the agent who was now staring at him. The man had probably called him more than once. That would explain his puzzled look. Agent Remy, remembered Booth putting a name on the expressive face. He'd just joined the FBI six months ago after finishing his degree in psychology.

"It's an arm, agent Booth" said agent Remy with disgust his hand over his mouth.

The arm had been there for sometimes. Maggots crawled all over it and as always the more unbearable was the stench coming from it. "From what it looks, someone cut his hand too! Butcher !" said the young agent as he faced Booth. "I hope you'll get that bastard sir!" he added.

Booth's look was enough answer for the young agent to go on with the details, convinced his senior officer wouldn't let this 'butcher' live that long under the sun. Booth took notes and was going to join Brennan when two other agents signaled they had found more body parts. Then a third one indicated he had too found another part. The count was at five, calculated Booth.

Brennan joined him near what seemed a trunk and started to analyze the body while Booth was taking notes. He stared few times at her, half expecting she'd translate her scientific words into simple ones. Suddenly, she raised on her feet and headed to the tree. Booth felt his gut tightened. Coming that close was not making him happy. Nevertheless, he followed her, fighting his inner demons. When they reached the tree, they noticed the smell of burn coming from underneath. Brennan bent over the grass and discovered some pieces of burn clothes under the blacken roots. With her gloved hand, she pulled it out of the roots. The roots weren't that strong, and gave up under Brennan's force, revealing a burn scarecrow.

He froze, unable to breath. An old vision appeared before his eyes. The dark priest was standing and grinning at him. His words still echoing in his mind :"we will finish our business later" . His nightmare had just collided with his life. Without knowing, Booth closed his eyes. 'This couldn't be happening ! God, how could it be true ?' It's like the entire world he knew had just been replaced. Slowly, he raised one hand to his forehead and rubbed his face. A murderer, he knew how to catch him. Anyone who would try to kill people or his partner, he would aim at them and shot if he had to do. But this, how could he fight a living nightmare . Perhaps he was going to wake up sweating in his bed, and all of this would disappear.

"It's not a human body" said Brennan lifting up what had been a blue shirt. "It looks like it due to the clothes and the shape, but it's only a dummy," she stopped, her sight had caught Booth's troubled features.

A breeze blew taking the whole flesh and bones decomposition stench. Brennan stood up and went beside Booth.

"Are you alright ?" she said low, only Booth could hear her worries.

Booth stared at her. She saw confusion and that scared her. "It's nothing," he whispered, his voice gone. "Are you done, here?" all he wanted was to get the hell out of there.

"Yes, the FBI can pack up the remnants." His gaze was like a prayer to her.

"We should go back to the Jeffersonian," she proposed, her voice louder. Her hand squeezed his arm. "I could give you more details there" she continued, with a professional tone. As she stepped beside him, her look met his tired eyes. She swore mentally she'll help him whatever it might cost her.

* * *

_So what do you think so far...please let me know  
_

Author's note: The Great Dismal Swamp is located in Virginia. The information I gathered were from the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge website if you want to take a look.


	4. wandering times

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Bones or anything related to it.**

_Okay, here it's chapter four. Thanks to everyone who reviewed it helps to write. This part is more focused on Booth and Brennan relationship. More action and angst in the next chapter._

* * *

As Booth drove, his hands clang the wheel firmly . Brennan watched him intensely. Since they left the crime scene none of them had dared to speak their mind. 

"I'll leave you at the museum " said Booth breaking the silence. "I'll be back as soon as my report would be finished." Booth didn't really want to go to the office right now. He was still looking like a walking dead, and Cullen waited for his reports in no less than three and half hours, he calculated from his watch. He turned to Brennan, biting his lip. She hadn't spoken a word after his last statement. He wondered if he shouldn't tell her the whole story. He knew she worried for him. His gaze lasted on her features. The sweet pink of her cheek. The blue cristal of her eyes. Then, he noticed below her ear the delicate movement of restraining her jaw. She was pissed off. She confirmed his deductions as her arms tightened more her chest. A maelstrom of emotions invaded Booth. He deepened his fingers in the wheel and focused on the street unfolding beside his eyes.

oooooooooooooo

Brennan stared at her watch. The small needle refused to move fast. 'Silly thoughts'. The time was inalterable. 'You couldn't go back in time and even less go forward'. She sighed. One more day with a secret Booth. He wasn't really getting to talk to her. She put the bone she was holding below a giant magnifier. She stared for sometimes at the marks. Strange cuts were carved into the scaphoid. This was odd. She walked to another autopsy table and brought back the bone from of the victim's arm. The scars were less apparent, yet she could discern the same pattern on the radius this time. Who had done that scars had to be strong enough to hold the victim and carved in his flesh .

"Zack !" called Brennan, her eyes still bent over the remains.

"Yes doctor Brennan " answered the young anthropologist. His eyes were still red from analyzing every bone they had found this morning.

Her right hand pointed to the bones she was looking at. "I'd like you to have a look at these bones. Can you tell me what you see?" .

He looked at the bones for several minutes. His gaze extremely focused on his work. Turning the bones in his hands, he stared at the edge, he frowned. "I believe I know what was the instrument used. If you allow me, I'd like to check first before reporting to you," he asked, putting the bones on the dish. She nodded. He turned the heels and left Brennan alone on the platform.

She headed to her office. Maybe she could call Booth to tell him what she discovered. Even she had no facts yet, these marks could have occurred after the death. A chill ran down her spine. It meant the murder had tried to possess the victim after death. Besides Booth always wanted to be kept in the loop, she convinced herself. Perhaps, she might have the opportunity to bring her questions in the talk. She knew he would find out quickly. But she didn't really care. All that matters were to know if he would come this afternoon. She grieved to see him, to check if he was alright. Deep inside, she knew his state couldn't evolve to a good shape in few hours. Sorrow sunk her heart, maybe he wasn't trusting her enough to her in.

After four rings, she hung up the phone, more saddened than before and tried his cell phone. She'd get better luck., she thought. Instead of Booth she was put in contact with his answering machine. Disappointed, she left a message, talking about new evidences he should see and hung up once more. Sighing loudly she headed to the platform and slid her card through. She was again relegated to a waiting worrying role. This was totally frustrating for someone like her.

ooooooooooooooo

Faraway a teasing rumble thumbed in his head. Slowly, Booth cracked an eye open to discover he was in his office. His head bent on the left of his armchair. His computer screen playing a variety of Parker's pictures. He startled. A look at his watch warned him. It was almost noon.Damned he had to stop waking up by phone calls. He stood up and reached for his cup of coffee. Taking in a sip he pulled a face at the cold nasty coffee. The only merit of a cold coffee, besides tearing someone from his reverie, was to make you go get a real hot one, stated his mind. The office was deserted at this hour. Almost every desk was empty. No files wandering, he noticed as he headed to the coffee room. He poured hot coffee in his cup and rubbed his aching neck as he sipped the warm liquid. He felt better as the warmth spread inside him. He pouted. He hadn't planned to fall asleep. Now, he was really late for his reports. Damned nightmares he muttered. He was drinking another sip when he heard this time the music from his cell phone.

Carefully, he walked back to his office as he felt drained again. He was grabbing his phone when it went dead. With the thumb he opened it and watched as the caller id appeared. "Bones" he muttered, his smile back. His face softened at the memory of his partner. Pressing on the answering machine icon, he moved the cell phone to his ear. The message was precise and concise as he expected from her. He should call her said his mind. His heart needed to hear her voice. He would reassure her he was okay. But frankly, he din't want to argue, feeling too weak for that. Even with the coffee he felt too exhausted as if his energy was going away, like air drawn out of a balloon. The headache was back. His chest was sore and throbbing. He sat loudly in the armchair, a hand still massaging his neck. He smiled at his son's picture still displayed on his screen, and dialed Brennan's office. After several rings, he gave up as she had not picked up. He looked at the screen and decided to finish his report first.

Twenty minutes later, he had filled two pages and smiled as he clicked on the print button. When the pages were printed, he turned off his computer. Grabbing the pages he read once more and signed his report at the bottom page. Proud of his work, he grabbed his vest and walked out. On his way to the lift, he threw his report in Cullen's basket. He preferred to avoid his boss' questions for the moment. It wasn't wise to meet him right now. He didn't feel that well, and wasn't ready to take forced vacations. So the best was to not let his boss see him at all. He busted in the lift as soon as the doors opened and sought his car's keys hoping this time, his visit to Brennan would end better.

oooooooooooooooo

It had been more than forty minutes since she had tried to reach Booth. As much as he exasperated her not wanting her help, she had to admit Angela was right. If she had been in a similar trouble, although she had no clue of what was going on, she would probably have kept everything for her as he was doing. Though in her case, he would have found a way to get involve. She remembered too well the last time someone had tried to kill her. He hadn't let her going out of his sight. Even broken and blown away, he had managed to rescue her. She wouldn't let him down as well. That last thought comforted her in her decision to try again to be involve.

Actually, what disturbed her at this moment was to be unable to focus on anything else besides Booth. With her parents disappearance, she got used to put her feelings aside and go with the facts, only the facts. Since she'd met Booth, his overprotective behavior, his way to handle and understand people's feelings had shaken her logical world. Now that she reacted more in his way, he kept her out of reach. Once again, she sighed. It was easier to deal with bones and facts than feelings.

She looked back at the bones laid on the autopsy table. She was finishing to look at the third rib when she noticed another mark near the collar bone junction. From the angle and the depth of the cut, she found similarities with the one she discovered earlier.

"Zack" she called out.

"Poor Zack" yelled a voice behind her. "Never present when you need him !" smirked a pale Booth. He grinned as she turned to face him.

"Zack is always there when I require his presence. And most of all, he never does fairy tales to avoid my questions. As others do !" she stated bluntly.

Take it Booth you deserved it, you are the one that pissed her off, he thought.

"I guessed you had my message that's why you're finally here. "

"It's one of the reasons I'm here if you meant it," he corrected.

Something in his answer made her feeling guilty at being so harsh with him. "We found strange marks on the scaphoid, the radius and for the moment I haven't got the time to check the other bones," she said softening her voice. He gave her a puzzled look. "They're the bones of wrist and arm," she stated, as if it was so obvious. "We should join Zack. He left an hour ago to find the instrument the murder used on the victim".

"Have you find the victim's identity yet ?" inquired Booth as he laid a hand on a computer desk seeking some support. As soon as he had entered the lab he had felt so worn off that he'd started to step limply.

His face was still white but less than this morning noticed Brennan. Yet, his way to stand was one of a dead man. "For the moment, we know he played soccer and had a leather disease. I'm sorry, but as you may have noticed without his skull it's difficult for Angela to draw a sketch." she said teasing him.

"Jesus Bones! I understand you would like to talk about one thing in particular, but I'm not. Can we skip the arguing part and go to the point?" he said exasperated .

"Fine let's see Zack" said Brennan "lead the way" as her arm pointed to the stairs.

He stepped down the stairs slowly and waited for Brennan to come down. She joined him and they both headed to Zack's lab without speaking a word. Her eyes were still glaring at his back and his cautious way to walk when they entered the lab.

"Zack" called Brennan.

A thin metallic sound made them turn to the left. Behind a huge steel wall, Zack was throwing blades to a brown wooden panel. Brennan smiled when she saw her assistant in the middle of his new experiment. He pulled off his protective glasses as she went toward him. Following Brennan, Booth leant slightly on the entrance. He shot a big smile at Zack when he discovered what the squint was up to. Throwing knives on a board could be fun, especially for a lab rat. Booth grinned, his arms crossed his chest.

"Zack, have you find out what were the marks on the scaphoid?" asked Brennan.

"I'm not sure yet. I gauged all the knives and the scissors I have here. Still none of them corresponded to the marks you found. I believe the weapon had to be modified as it requires a great amount of force to make the print on the bone".

"So you're saying the victim was either dead or restrained when the marks were made" interrupted Booth. "God, is it on every bone?"

"I haven't checked the other bones" said Zack. "But it would be interesting to confirm that hypothesis. For the moment I can only tell you these marks weren't made by a blade or a scissor. You see there" explained Zack as he showed them the bone on the screen. "These deep curves can't be from a regular blade. None of the knives I tried had this pattern."

Booth stared at the image. Lots of lines appeared from the right corner to the left of the screen. They all looked alike.

" And there as you can see, the pattern is different here and here "said Zack pointing at two more spots. "I suppose it might be the representation of some kind of drawing. Again, I don't know which kind of drawing, I'm sorry doctor Brennan, that's all I have," he said poorly.

"It's a good job, Zack !" Brennan exclaimed.

Zack exchanged a look with Booth as he wondered if he should ask to the FBI agent how he was feeling since yesterday. However, one look at him was enough to shut his mouth and swallowed his question. Booth hadn't caught Zack attempt to be friendly as he was still staring at the screen, frowning. These patterns were somehow familiar. He glanced at Brennan to discover she was watching him like a curious animal.

"What ?" he asked.

"What ?" she repeated.

"You know we can go on for sometimes like that," he grinned and turned his heels, stepping out of Zack's lab.

"We have to talk" she said behind him.

"No we don't" he threw without looking at her. As he headed to the way out, he tried to focus on better moments and not think about Brennan on his heels.

"You can't leave without filling some blanks at least !" she voiced louder to make him stop.

As he did, he turned to face her, anger rising inside him. "why the hell do you think I should talk to you? You're fussing up for nothing!" he threw back.

"But you have obviously trouble to solve it, and as your partner, I'm involved when you are!" she sounded off.

It was too much he could bear, " Did it ever occur to you that it could be a private matter! Or what? Do you believe I'm unable to handle my own problems?" he yelled as the shaking kicked off his whole body.

Some lasting lab workers gazed at Booth, wondering what was all the yelling about. He glanced at his hands. They were trembling. Damned, he was loosing it. Not now, he swore tightening his jaws.

Brennan was still standing in front of him. Her gaze met his eyes. She could see anger and pain beneath them. Guilt filled her, "I'm sorry" she muttered. "I don't think you're unable to handle it. I just want to help. I wanted to be involved because it's what I had learnt from you!" she articulated. "Don't push me away! Let me help you, please ?" she said, her voice almost imploring him.

He eyed her his anger vanished. Taking a step towards her, he gazed a long time at her face. With a hand on her shoulder, he slightly drove her into her office and shut the door. "Listen, it's just not easy to lean on someone, especially when it's you."

She stared at him, stunned by his words. He then realized what she had understood. Before she spoke, he stroked softly her arms, his eyes plunged into hers. They were so closed, he could feel her breath caressing his neck. "I don't mean it's because of you, but more because we share a lot of things, as partners do," he watched her cristal eyes as understanding penetrated her. "You don't have to worry. It's just a couple of nightmares I had." he added smiling. "I hadn't much sleep. You know, it can make you cranky, touchy... The important thing is that there's no real reason to freak out, okay ?" he said. "I'll be fine after a good night sleep, that's all." he stated in a positive and soothing manner.

She detached her eyes from him. "why didn't you say anything to me then? It's not a big secret"

His sight dropped on the floor. "I guess I was scared you wouldn't see me with the same eyes. You know, something like not being an alpha male anymore..." he shot her a tired smile, "I've got used to it." it wasn't the whole truth, but it was true anyway, he deemed.

"I suppose, I can deal with that for the moment," she said out loud. She sighed, " the tests won't be completed before tomorrow morning, until then I haven't got anything more to show you."

"Then, you and me can go grab some food ?" he said with a grin. He wasn't hungry, but it could ease her up to eat a bit.

ooooooooooooooooo

Twenty minutes after their big argument, they were sited at their favorite restaurant. Brennan watched their orders being served while Booth started to doze off. His head was resting on his right fist. His eyelids seemed so heavy he had a hard time to keep them open. She plunged her fork in her salad. She considered Booth for a moment. His head was falling dangerously from his fist, heading directly to his piece of pie. "Booth" she whispered, but her voice was too low to wake him up. As his head was going to crash into the pie, she put the plate away and with one hand helped his head to land softly on the table. She could see his low breathing as his chest went up and down. She smiled at the vision of her sleeping partner. He truly had to rest.

She plunged her fork in her lettuce. Her salad was good, and she finished it quickly feeling hungry. Her gaze lasted on her partners' sleeping features. A flush colored her face as she peeked on his throat and neck. As always his collar was untied, revealing his bare skin beneath. She shook his arm slowly. It would be better for him to rest in his bed than on a coffee table.

A half awake Booth, looked at her, confusion in his eyes. "You fell asleep," she stated with a grin. He had the mark of the paper on his left temple. Brennan found it cute in a way. "Do you need a ride back home?" she wandered.

As the sleep was claiming him back, Booth managed to keep his eyes open, and answered a small yes to Brennan. She beamed, happy to drive him home.

After they paid, they went out in Brennan's car direction.

It was dusk when they arrived at Booth's apartment. "Take some rest," she commanded with a huge smile. "Yes mum " he smiled back and strolled to the entrance.

* * *

What do you think of this chapter? 

I tried to make them get closer even if Booth doesn't want her too close for now... Reviews would be gladly accepted.


	5. Bound to suffer

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any of its character.

_Thanks for all the reviews and help you bring by doing so. _

_Okay, this chapter contains violence, so be advised..._

oooooooooooooooo

His apartment was dark and very quite when Booth entered. A faint stench filled the air. His hair stood on end. Slowly, he pulled out his gun from the holster and his hand reached for the light. He stared into the gloomy corridor. If someone waited for him, it would be at the end. All he could see were shapes from his furniture. Nothing moved. Far away, tires burned on a road, and headlights bathed the corridor. He blinked. No move. The only sound he could make out was from his heart pounding fast in his chest. A slight thumb behind him made him realize he had forgotten the closet near the main door. If he hadn't been so damn tired, he would have never missed something like that. The time he turned, he heard a whoosh and felt a sting in his thigh. A burning pain soared through his leg to his chest. He gasped for air desperately, one hand tightening his leg where the burn soared. His fingers came across a long needle. With efforts he pulled out the needle, panting and stared at the weapon. His vision clouded over. 'Not again', he prayed hopelessly. The world started to spin around him. His legs shook, it was too hard to stand. In a dreary effort to keep his balance, he leant heavily on the furniture. A small table he had put in the hall for keys and mail. Unfortunately, the table was too weak to sustain his weight and broke under him. He crashed loudly on the floor. Booth tried to raise pushing on his arms. His palms penetrated wooden chip. His muscles refused to obey. He puffed on the dust. He heard footsteps getting closer. His head finally dropped on the remains of the wooden table. Black shoes appeared in front of his face as his vision blurred, and fell into darkness.

oooooooooooooooo

She turned in her bed. She should be resting as Booth had finally opened up. Though he hadn't told her the whole truth. They talked after all that was something. Her eyes wandered to the brown oak nightstand, where she left her phone. She wanted to call him so much, make sure he was okay. 12:03 glowed on the clock. She considered to call him. As tired as he was when she dropped him, he was surely deeply asleep by now. It was too late to call now, she decided sighing. She pulled the sheets over her head to keep the heat. She'd call tomorrow. He needed sleep, and she had to give him some space. Angela would be proud of her. A smile appeared on her face at the thought of her friend. She shut her eyes trying to sleep.

Thirty minutes later, still moving from sides to side in her bed, she gave up and get up. If she couldn't sleep at least she could work on the case. Her thoughts drove her back to Booth. She knew he was the kind of shy and secret person when it was about his life. However, the last days he had appeared like he'd wanted to avoid her. She wasn't the reason he'd said. In the swamp, he had behaved too eerie, lost in his thoughts. She knew him well enough now to put two and two together. Still, something was missing. The puzzle was incomplete. Her mind wondered as she dressed. She'd have to keep a close eye on him. Tonight, she'd leave him alone. She grabbed her purse and her jacket. Turning off the lights, she left for the museum. Tomorrow would be another day.

oooooooooooooooo

Voices far away were calling his name, repeating a distorted "wake up agent Booth". He blinked, his vision foggy. His head rolled on his shoulder, hammering. Before him in a haze, white teeth emerged from a wry smile. Groggy and confused, he felt the coldness of the floor beneath him. His back was stuck against the wall. He tried to speak, but no sounds came out. A cold pipe was inserted in his throat. His heart beat fast when he realized his left arm was twisted backwards and tied somewhere up behind him. His shoulder screamed as he struggled to loosen his hand and remove the thing in his throat. The rope cut deeply in his skin, holding on. Fear sank in him like a cold blade as he couldn't use his right hand too. His wrist tied to a choker around his neck. The more he moved to free his hand, the more it squeezed his throat. He was trapped and unable to fight for his life or to yell for help. Cold sweat slid the back of his hair and ran through his spine at the cold realization, he was alone and defenseless. For someone who could take care of himself, he'd just ended miserably. Maybe, Bones was right. He should have let her help out. Though he preferred not seeing her trap with him.

Slowly, his vision accustomed to the darkness surrounding him. From the shape of the furniture he discerned, he was in his apartment, probably the main room. As he laid, sat and tied on the floor, a tall man came closer to his side. His stenchy whiff made Booth's stomach heaved.

"Finally, we meet !" puffed the man in Booth's face. A painful knot twisted in his stomach as Booth recognized the dark priest from his nightmares. He had to free his hands, to run from here, to escape from this nightmare. It couldn't be the reality. He was dreaming again. He fought the fear that tried to overwhelm him.

The priest smirked as he saw Booth pulling on his restraints to break free. 'I'm not gonna die here' swore Booth. He pulled harder and blood dripped on the floor and slid along his arms. It soaked the rope. 'Maybe, if I can get to loosen the rope just a bit, make it slithering enough.' After several attempts, Booth was exhausted and gave up as he only succeeded to deepen the cuts. His wrists were now covered with blood. 'He must have used squeezing knots', concluded Booth. His mind raced, if the man could come closer enough, he would have a chance to put him down. Using his legs to attack him. He would never give up, not without fighting, never.

The priest watched intensely Booth's fight. He liked when his prey resisted. The FBI agent was just tasting the sweet taste of fear, soon it would be the taste of agony. His tongue run through his lips at the thoughts of the different tool he would use on Booth. He would enjoy this. A sparkle of delight blazed in his eyes as Booth had stopped struggling. Exhausted, he was now laying sneezing to catch his breath. A large smile drew on the priest's face. He approached Booth, a long blade in hand.

As soon as Booth saw him close enough, he tried to circle the man with his legs, but only managed to lift them few inches. They were heavy as lead. His legs were paralyzed. He swallowed as he saw the blade coming closer and prepared for the stab. The priest laughed at Booth. "So agent Booth, by what do you want me to start?" He pressed the blade against Booth's throat. A small line of blood dripped to his shirt.

Then, the man released the pressure and slid the blade on Booth's chest. With a quick move, he ripped the shirt apart, revealing Booth's bared chest. The bandage to maintain his ribs was the only thing left after the man had opened the shirt.

"Still painful here " asked the man as he punched on the dressing.

Booth moaned. His eyes darted full of anger. He couldn't speak, but at least he wouldn't let his torturer see any weakness. Pitching the knife to the wall near Booth's head, the priest started to kick hard into his side. An evil laugh escaped from his mouth as he heard bones breaking under his kicks. "Now you're not so proud anymore, agent Booth, right. I'm sure you'll do me any favor when I'll be done with you. That is, only, if you survive this night of course !" he yelled crazily. A shooting pain soared through Booth's side. His chest was so throbbing he started to pant. He felt dizzy. Hoping the lack of air would soon put him out of his misery, he prayed for being discovered by someone different than Bones. It wouldn't be fair to put his death on her heavy burden, she already had a lot to deal with.

He was too weak to keep a clear mind, still his brain recalled his time as a sniper. This was nothing compared to what he endured at that time. Though his body was betraying him, heading to the shadows slowly.

Then, as suddenly as it started, the priest stopped slugging and headed to grab something in a black bag he'd left near the furniture. He seized a long and thick brown stick and went to the kitchen. Booth confused mind heard the gas being ignited. Few minutes later, footsteps and tearing agony in his left shoulder warned him the man was back. "Are you more comfortable agent Booth ?" smirked the voice behind him. The rope tied to Booth's left wrist lead to a pulley, making easier for the priest to pull up Booth's arm. With one move he pulled the rope to him. Only grunts came out Booth's throat. His arm burned. Shots of agony tore his shoulder. He felt the joint ready to be put out from his socket as the pain increased again. His sight darkened. His head rolled to his side limply.

When he thought he couldn't resist anymore, the agony decreased. The priest grabbed his hair and pulled his head backwards wickedly "No, agent Booth don't faint now!" Booth's eyes clouded and his tired mind was just able to catch pieces of words. "I have so many things to share with you " then a large grinned appeared on his face as he drew a small bottle from his paints.

Somewhere, he heard the sound of tires burning on a road and a car turning around the corner of the street. Lights flashed in the parlor where Booth laid bound to the wall. He blinked, and catch a glimpse of the bottle. From the sparkles it cast, Booth distinguished a green liquid with dark shredded pieces floating inside. Taking the top off, the priest kneeled and approached the bottle to Booth's mouth. He smiled as Booth struggled harder to free from his grip. The restraints deepened into his chair. Blood ran from his wrists along his arms. A red scratch circled his neck as the choker squeezed and rubbed under the pulling from his right arm.

"Don't fight my little prey " whispered Booth's torturer "You're only going to hurt you more and end my game too soon. Don't you understand ? You are mine and no one is going to help you !" said coldly the priest.

He poured the green liquid into the pipe inside Booth's throat and closed the hole with his palm. As Booth attempted to puke the liquid, the priest released his hairs and squeezed his nose to smother him. Booth held his breath and relaxed, hoping his opponent would release his grip, as soon as he'd be convinced he had given up and had swallowed the liquid. It lasted an eternity and the other maintained firmly his hold. As his lungs wanted to explode Booth felt the exhaustion take the best of him. Out of breath, as a last effort to survive, he swallowed. He felt the liquid sliding down his throat. He gaggled as the liquid sunk into his stomach. The revolting taste made bile raised to his lips. Then the pain came. At first he just felt stings inside, that quickly turned into sharp bites. It was like being eaten from inside.

Seeing his trap had worked, the priest released his grip and let Booth gulping avidly for air.

In the corner of his eyes Booth saw him going in the kitchen and bringing back the long stick. He had put a tow around the handle. With the lack of light in the room, the stick glowed red. At the extremity, Booth made out some kind of drawing, like a star. The priest began to utter strange words, raising the stick into the air. His words echoed in Booth's head like a hammer. His vision started to fog as the words thumbed harder inside his brain. Then, a stinging pain rose from his left side as the priest pressed the burning stick onto his flesh. Steam evaporated as the burn deepened his skin. His sight darkened, only the intense pain and the voice remained. His breath shallow. The world blurred around Booth. Weakening moans came from his congested throat. Before collapsing into oblivion Booth heard the priest whispering with joy in his ear. "Now you are my master's toy, agent Booth, as well as mine".

oooooooooooooooo

So what do you think so far? Let me know...

This was the last chapter I'd already written, so it may take more days to update for the next one, I'm sure you're all waiting for...

Author's note: About the voodoo torture let's just say, it's just for the story and the plot as voodoo is a religion like any others and only a small part believe in black magic, as in any other religions. I guess dark side can be anywhere.


	6. the seal

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any of its character...**

Thanks again for all reviewers and readers, it really helps to write when you know there would be people to read and enjoy what you've done as well as you enjoyed writting this.

So, here it's another piece of the puzzle...

* * *

The ringing echoed in his mind, like drums in a valley. His world was only hurt and pain. He managed to crack an eye open to check the place. The room seemed familiar, but it was hard for Booth to concentrate as his vision was foggy. Voices were talking in his head. Slowly, he looked around and recognized his place. He was laying on his back on the couch. Though he didn't remember crashing on it last night. Still he did feel the crash, his aching body was a good witness of it. He raised on his elbow but that only helped to wake up a shooting pain in his side. He wheezed loudly and laid back to ease the pain. His head felt down to the damped fabric. Sweat bathed his body. His Breathing labored, moved his uncovered chest up and down. Eyes shut, he swallowed as he tried to focus on his thoughts. He had the feeling he should remember something important. However, he had no idea of what. His head hurt like hell. As a matter of fact, his body ached almost everywhere, tormenting him. With one hand he massaged his temple, hoping the world would stop to sway behind him. He felt sick and shaking. A beeping followed by a vibration in his paints' pocket pulled him out of his thoughts.

He grabbed his cell phone, opened it without thinking and brought it to his right ear. His eyes still closed, he waited for the caller to speak first.

"Booth are you there ?" asked Brennan's worried voice.

"Yeah, Bones. What's going on ?" he whispered with a rasping voice. He felt his mind sinking back slowly to sleep. If she didn't hurry he would be asleep before he had time to hang up.

"Hi, I have more information for you about the victim identity. Even if we were still unable to put a name we have a lot about him." she paused. "But I call to know how you feel. You looked pretty worn out last night when I left you?"

She waited for Booth's answer, but it never came. He was starting to doze off. His silence freaked her out. "Booth, are you sure everything is okay ?"

" Uh, yeah I'm fine Bones," he mumbled in a low breath. If he didn't stand soon, he was going to fall back to sleep. "I'll come as soon as I'm done"

"Done, with what ?" she asked with obvious worries in her voice. "Are you at your office ?"

"Not really " he sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

Her mind raced at the implications "Are you at your apartment?" she said a bit confused.

"I haven't left already "he stated giving up. Damn liar, he thought. He wasn't even ready to get up.

"Booth it's 9.34. Have you overslept?"

That comment startled him. She meant he was more than late, damn it.

"Booth?" she repeated as she hadn't gotten any answers. Booth was always on time. Oversleeping meant he really had sleep to catch up. Her throat squeezed as she started to be afraid.

With some efforts, Booth managed to sit up. Feeling dizzy, he answered with a low muffling "Yeah".

"Booth I can pick you up in twenty minutes if you need to?"

"Listen Bones. I'm okay. Don't worry. I'll come around lunch if it's okay with you !"

"You do remember that your car is still at the museum?" she answered back.

Oh great he hadn't thought of that one. It was probably true as he couldn't remember the whole night.

"Alright. I got it Bones. Could you Pick me up at 12:30?" He was too exhausted to argue with her " At my place, " as he surrendered to the truth.

" I'll be there " Brennan confirmed, "Do you need anything?"

"Nope, see you at lunch," he hung up too tired to have a long conversation as he sensed she was about to go on with another matter.

Despite his exhaustion, he called his office to make known he wouldn't be there this morning. His voice was a bit weak, but he tried to make it sounds full of energy. He pretended he was on a case with Brennan and would probably have no time to drop by his office today.

It took him at least ten minutes to get focus and to be able to walk without swaying too much at each step. His side hurt like he had played football all the night, without any gear. Favoring his painful ribs, he went to his bed room and stripped off his clothes, but not without difficulties. His left shoulder screamed when he rotated his arm to get rid off the sleeve. He had to sit on the bed to get his breath back, waiting for the pain to fade out. Why did it hurt so much? He didn't remember spraining his shoulder. His brain only allowed him to recall hot stinging pain and fuzzy images of a man bend over him. He stood and stepped toward the bathroom awkwardly, his right hand reached for the wall to support him.

He stepped inside the shower and turned on the water to be hot, he was so cold. His sight wandered to the mirror atop of the sink. He stopped brutally, stunned. In addition, of his already white and pale face, a bloody scratch encircled his neck, looking like he'd been choked by a belt. Below it, his chest was covered of dark blue bruises almost everywhere. That wasn't making any sense. Getting under the water, he poked gently his ribcage beneath the hot liquid that dripped from his messy hair to his beaten muscles. He winced at the touch where he'd just seen a big dark spot. No wonder it hurt like hell. He counted one more broken rib just near the other two. His gaze widened, seeing a strange mark grazed in his flesh below the left ribs. Where the hell did he get that burn? His skin was scorched and the heat from inside made hard to bear the hot water on it. He turned showing his back to the flow of water as to protect his chest from the intense heat.

Finally, he turned up the cold and stared at his wrist. Deep crimsons cuts circled them. As the water ran over it, the dried blood disappeared leaving the bleeding flesh without protection. It shot sharp pain in his arms as the blood dripped in the trap. His body was a whole mess, how did he manage to get in this shape and not being able to recall anything startled him . He focused on the night before, but more he tried to remember more the memories were slipping away. I'm really going crazy, he thought as he sat under the water and buried his face in his hands. Tears formed in his eyes as he was too drained to hold them back. Alone under the falling water, he surrendered to exhaustion. He cuddled his knees against his chest to find comfort. What was happening to him? Minutes passed as he laid there, his thoughts melting, spinning in a big maelstrom of voices, hot pains and blurred visions. His entire universe was collapsing beneath him. What was he going to do? He was tired of hold on, all he wanted right now was just to let go for once and rest. But somehow his mind revolted to the thought. In the back of his head, an idea formed. Bones alone, needing him. For her, for Parker, he had to be strong. He had to hold on a bit longer, the time to be sure they would be okay. For them he would find out what was happening to him. Clearing mind, he felt a new energy invaded him.

Later, he ambled out the bathroom with hope this day was going to be better. It had to be. Because he didn't know how long he would hold like that. The shower had a small effect on him. Part of his brain was still succumbing under voices and eerie visions. He went to his closet and took out a pair of blue jeans and a white T-shirt, he put on, wincing as his shoulder cried out in pain. After the shower, he had bandaged his wrist. So he opted for a long sleeve dark blue shirt he would wear over his T-shirt. This way, his bandages wouldn't be too visible, and it would be easier to slip on it with his bad shoulder.

Today, he had to go see the doc for his broken ribs. Perhaps after he dealt with Bones. Though he had time now as he had decided that leaving wouldn't be a so good idea. The truth, he was in no shape to leave. Besides, he hadn't his car as the SUV was still at the museum. He believed somehow that was why Bones hadn't come or call sooner. She was keeping a careful eye on him.

A shiver ran through his body. He felt so restless as if to dress had drained the rest of his strength. Tired he laid on his bed, nestling around his pillow and hoping the room would stop to spin for a while.

A knock on the door took him out of his reverie. He sighed. Never get a quite moment. He stood slowly and managed to get to the door taking his time. His legs were a bit stronger than when he woke up earlier. He opened slowly, leaving the door ajar. Brennan appeared on the threshold. Her features were tensed with worries, she frowned.

"You're ready?" Brennan asked, seeing his abashed look.

"I thought we agreed for 12:30." he wondered confused.

"It is, Booth."

"Uh I guessed I didn't see the time going that fast, huh," he showed a weak smile.

"Well, let me grab my vest," he walked sluggishly to the couch, grabbed his vest and turned around. Bluntly, he stopped. He'd just noticed the bottom of the kitchen's wall. He stared at it. A vision engulfed him. His body stiffened at the memory of the pain.

From the door, Brennan watched Booth staring at something on the left. The scene startled her. For what seemed an eternity, Booth stood unmoving in the middle of his apartment, facing a creamy wall. "Booth" called Brennan from the doorway. She stepped toward him, but all of the sudden he just looked at her straight to her eyes. What she saw paralyzed her. She had seen fear in people's eyes, but it was nothing compared to the frightening sight she caught in the deep brown eyes she used to gaze at. She had never thought he could be scared.

He blinked and then every sign of fear vanished from his tired eyes. "Bones..." he paused, swallowing hard. His mouth was dry, "let's go". Pressing his hand at the small of her back, he pushed her to the door.

He turned to lock the door, throwing a last look at the place. A sharp pain rose from inside his head. He took a deep breath before turning to Brennan and shot her a weak smile. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. Him tied to the wall, and someone bending over him with some kind of weird bottle in his hands. This couldn't be the reality, wondered his mind, it had to be from one of those nightmares he got lately.

Brennan watched Booth as he headed to her car. Something in his gawky walk made her think of someone bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. Probably, due to a restless night again, she assumed. She had to step in soon in whatever was destroying her partner before it would be too late for him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Somewhere in Washington D.C. at the same time.

In a dark quiet room, a man bent on the floor. His head rested to the carpet. Around him, candles in circle sparkled the dirty motel room. A dim light from a black curtain's hole was giving life to the shadows created by the few furniture of the room. The air was spiced by the incense burning and spiked into a jar of black dirt.

"Papa, send your strength to your faithful servant," prayed a low guttural voice. He grabbed a little clay glass and brought it to his mouth. As he gulped the liquid, the flame of the candle enlightened his face. Scars marked his features and a wry smile surrounded his white teeth.

"It is time to join us master, I've prepared our prey," with a swift move, he unfolded the clothes before him and laid carefully its contents on the symbol drew on the floor.

He started first with a cut hand and then arranged near it a small puppet made of brown fabric. The hand's skin was almost translucent leaving shades of grey and dark blue appeared beneath a layer of moist and decomposing flesh. The puppet was as large as a hand, and stained with dried blood. A five branches star was drawn on what appeared to be his belly.

"Master, let me be your hand, let your wrath sink into your prey" to this word he raised a bonny blade patted of blood and stabbed the puppet in the hand spiking it to the floor. A splash of light coming from the decomposing hand, engulfed the room. "Hear me master, I am your servitor. Pidikaola tadeooo. It is time for your revenge. Come, unfold space and strike from inside. The bond is strong. We are all as one," he shouted.

Then the light diminished. Only the sparkles from the candles remained to light his evil smile. Everything worked as he planned.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Jeffersonian was almost empty at this hour. Every one had left for lunch. Only Brennan's squints squad was present. From the light coming through the corridor on the right, Booth deduced only Angela was in her lab. Taking a short cut by her's office, Brennan picked up her notes on the desk. Booth slumping behind her stayed at the threshold and leant heavily in the doorway. From the moment she picked him up, he had always stayed at three feet behind her. In the car, he had slept all the way . He was so tired and his body ached everywhere that walking had been a tough task to do. Despite his state, he had tried to hide the pain and exhaustion from Brennan. Staying behind her was one way to keep her from discovering the truth. He didn't want her to worry for him. To do so, he had buttoned his shirt to the top, and squeezed the tie to be sure Brennan wouldn't see his bruised neck. Still it hurt like hell, the collar rubbing on the scratch underneath with each move.

On her desk, Brennan noticed two small paper bags from Wong's food. The chinese food had invaded her office, and it smelled really good. Her lips curved into a smile. It was Angela's way to make her friend known she and Booth had to eat some food before getting in the Angelator.

"I think Angela had prepared something for us," she pointed to the bags.

"Oh yeah, I didn't know she cooked" he joked, trying to hide the sharp pain soaring from his side. When he saw Brennan's face wondering if he hadn't started to lose his mind, he dropped the subject. "just kidding Bones". He sighed gazing at his shoes. Beads of sweat stood out on his back. He breathed deeply to ease his muscles.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, startling his sleepy brain.

One look at the bags and he knew he couldn't eat anything. "No thanks! I'm not really hungry," the only thing he really wanted right now, was to lay on the couch and close his eyes.

"Then, we should join Angela, she'll show you what we discovered" said Brennan as she passed near him and headed to the corridor. "Are you coming?" confusion crossed her eyes as Booth walked cautiously toward her.

His face reflected so much fatigue, she felt suddenly the guilt gripping her as she behaved so coldly with her partner. He didn't deserve to be treated like this. Her eyes dropped to his hand favoring his left side.

"Your ribs hurt?" she said sweetening her tone.

"Just tickling" he muttered, with a grin to reassure her.

Her sight lasted on his deep brown eyes. Though he tried to hide the pain lurking inside, Brennan caught a glimpse of his lonesome torment. She tried to speak to comfort him, but her words stayed in her throat as they entered the Angelator.

The holographic tool was already on, the air vibrating from the electricity. The room was cool and dark. Booth crossed his arms as he stepped inside, shivering.

Angela gave a big smile at Booth when she saw him. "How was your night, my favorite FBI agent? "

" Whoa, that's a welcome" answered Booth, giving her the best smile he could to hide his weakness as he put his hands along the rail to support him. He hadn't recovered yet. His small dozing this morning had helped him till now. Yet, quivering, he was in no shape for a long rough day. He hoped she'll get to the point fast. His head throbbed in total chaos. Drums and screams battled in his mind, as voices echoed like a rumbling hell.

"You know you worried us all" threw Angela.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna collapse here Angela," he grinned, playing fainting. That was not really acting as the pain in his side increased as the time passed.

"Okay, guys" said Angela still smiling hugely at Booth. The guy needed to be comforted, she thought. "I have put together the pieces you have found yesterday."She paused, pulling a face. "So the man would appear almost himself, says beside his left hand and head," she grimaced. "As you can see with Brennan information I digitalized the guy. He was a kind of tall not as tall as you are Booth," she gave him a wink. He smiled back but didn't answer as his breathing stiffened. Brennan looked at him. But Angela fired on the simulator and a man digitalized between them hiding Booth's feature. She'd swear she'd seen him sweating.

His head pounded hard. He closed his eyes a moment and focused on Angela's voice.

"The data Zack gave me showed the man had been struck from behind."

'I invoke you Loa Boa Doas,' grunted a harsh voice.

Booth jerked his eyes open, his muscles tensed "What?"

Brennan made a side step to have a clear view of Booth. She caught his sight unfocused and wandering. "What did you say?" he asked her.

"Nothing, I haven't spoken"

His mind raced to cop with the information. An awful laughed echoed in his head 'mine!'. Booth's hand clutched into fist. 'I know you can hear me agent Booth' stated the voice with delight. 'Let's play a bit!'

A rush of panic invaded Booth. What the hell? If he was the only one who could hear that voice it meant he was really becoming nuts. He looked at the girls.

On the other side of the Angelator, Brennan was back in a great conversation with Angela. Brennan remained quiet as she peeped to Booth, her glances remaining unnoticed.

Slowly, at first, he felt like a needle in his left hand. Then the needle changed into a teasing burn in the palm. He glanced at Brennan. She hadn't noticed his behavior. Good, he believed involving her now as he was almost sure he was nuts, wouldn't be a great idea. He tried to get back into their dialog. He didn't want her to worry.

Angela was explaining that the man hadn't seen his aggressor. "That concurred with the stressed fractures I have found on the cervical vertebra," added Brennan.

Booth wasn't looking at the girls anymore. All his attention driven by the rising hot pain in his palm. Several times he contracted his fingers and opened his hand hoping it would ease the pain. Instead, with each new move, the burn grew worst. Sweat started to slide from his neck along his back. With a quick glance at Brennan, he opened his phone and pretended he got a call. Brennan watched him hastening out the Angelator, his phone stuck at the ear. From the way he ran out, Brennan knew something was wrong. "I have to... " she began, addressing to Angela.

"I know sweetie, we will finish when you'll be back" interrupted Angela, lines of worries drew her forehead. She gave a supporting look at Brennan as her friend rushed out to find Booth.

His hand was loved against his side. The burn had become too painful for Booth to keep a stoned face. He winced as he entered the men's room. He stopped at the nearest sink and opened the flow of water. He plunged eagerly his hand under the cold liquid. His palm had turned into a mix of orange red and purple. A thin bloody line crossed his palms right in the middle. "What the heck?"

The men's door opened on an alarmed Brennan.

"This is the men's here, Bones!" yelled Booth as he dissimulated his hand behind his side.

"What are you hiding from me?" she shouted, anger and worries rose inside her chest.

"it's nothing, beside it's not the right place to discuss, okay, so just step out and give some space would you?"

Her eyes darted to him. "Show me! If it's nothing I'll leave in the second," she said, not giving up.

Booth sworn, "Bones, I need to be alone, could you please get the.." he couldn't finish as he muffled a moan. The pain had just leveled to a shooting hard stab in his hand. His face darkened. He threw his hand under the water to sooth the pain.

Brennan shot him an angry glare "Booth tell me what's going wrong?" she stopped as she saw the water turning red.

As the pain soared to a heat point, blood rushed out from a blunt cut in his palm. His jaw tightened. From the end of his lips, he threw a hard "Damn!" he watched the blood rushing out, the white sink turning to a bloody pool.

Brennan rushed to Booth, and without even thinking, she pressed her finger against Booth's cut trying to stop the bleeding. He winced at the touch of her finger and pulled back his bleeding hand. "Don't be such a baby, let me see !" she peeked at him. Half supporting his weight on the sink with his other hand, he let her grabbed his hands and stared at the palm and the back of his hand. "Booth, what did you do to get that hole? It looks like the cut is through your hand."

Their eyes crossed. A glimpse of embarrassment lighted in Booth's eyes before he closed them. Taking a deep breath as to clear his mind, he looked straight in her crystal blue eyes. "I don't know" he whispered. If he knew how he got that, sure he wouldn't be standing in the men's room with Brennan beside him holding his bleeding hand. He was fed up with all of this. Can he have a minute of peace, he prayed . He felt as he got fifty pounds on his shoulders, swaying his elbow hit the sink.

"You're loosing blood," stated Brennan. Drawing a white tissue from her paints' pocket, she wrapped Booth's hand and finished with a neat knot. "It's a serious injury, it'll require at least some stitches, and it had to be cleaned," she raised her eyes to look at him. "I have a medical kit in my office."

He capitulated and walked out of the men's room as she pushed him gently, her right arm tightened around his waist. He wanted to tell her, he could walk alone that he was fine. However, her arm around him, her head beside his shoulder soothed him. He liked very much feeling her against him. Her perfume aroused deep feelings he had tried to hide since he met her. The corner of his lips drew a small smile. In this total mayhem that he was living lately, Bones had stayed by his side even when he pushed her away. Now she'd just brought sunshine in his world of darkness. Maybe there was hope for him.

As they reached her office, she told him to sit, pointing at the couch with her chin while she headed to her closet. Crushing into the cushions, Booth closed his eyes and laid his head back, breathing deeply. His hand throbbed in the rhythm of his heart, the whole beating echoing in his head. Brennan glanced at his partner still, and rumbled at the stuff she kept in the bottom of her closet. She finally pulled out a medical kit and went to sit next to a sleeping Booth.

With care, she grabbed his wounded hand and started to cut the tissue soaked with blood with a pair of scissor. Feeling her touch, Booth's opened his eyes, half smiling. "I didn't know you played doctor," he said, winking at her.

"We're not done with the talk, Booth." she glanced back at him as she pressed a gauze over the cut. "This wound is too deep to be a scratch. We should go to the hospital, before you bleed to death," She said, with a serious tone.

"I'm sure your dressing would be fine" stated Booth. "I've been worst you know." He gazed at her with his chocolate brown eyes.

"That doesn't me you can skip the hospital"

As he tried to stop a coughing he rubbed his chest carefully.

"Your ribs still hurt?" she asked finishing the dressing.

"A bit" he said as he looked at his bandaged hand. "Thanks" he said as he raised to his feet. Swaying, he leant on the top of the couch, and glanced at Brennan, "Did Angela find something else?"

"I'll take care of the case. For the moment you need to rest. And I don't mean at your place, it doesn't seem to work. "

"And what do you propose, that I stick here" he grinned tired, as his side was still burning him.

"I had in mind a better place, my place to be more specific," she caught his eyes.

"Is that an invitation," he said amused by her proposal. The lonely independent Temperance Brennan asking him to stay at her place. He felt moved by her invitation.

"Like that we would have all the time to talk, without being interrupted," she declared, her eyes sparkling.

Booth felt his gut tightened. His eyes wondered and crossed her blue teasing sparkle inside hers. She seemed very pleased to have put herself in charge of him. His mind wondered about the awkwardness of the situation. He was the one who should care and protect her. It was not easy for him to suddenly become the one being taken care of.

"We should go" she said. She stepped beside him, her eyes locked into his, "I only want the truth".

She grabbed Wong's food, and cuddled his waist around her free arm. His lips shot her a big tired smile as he walked out, leaning on her.

* * *

_Please review...  
_

The next chapter might be a bit late as I have a busy week ahead. So sorry for the delay, but I'll do my best anyway.


	7. what we are

Here it comes the chapter seven. For those who have waited last week for an update, I'm truly sorry. However, I had a lot of things to do (prepare a party, see the family...) you know, being a busy bee.

_This chapter is more focused on B&B growing relationship. Hope you'll enjoy the reading as more as I enjoyed wrote it. Note, that the period are sometimes words not entirely spoken (end of chapter) due to a particular situation._

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

The road trip to Brennan's apartment had been very quiet. As soon as Booth sat in her car, his eyelids dropped. Worries marked Brennan's forehead when she saw him sleeping, his arms nestled around his chest. He looked so fragile, so weak. It hurt her to see him like that. Booth was a good man and whatever was happening to him, it was unfair. If only she could drop his barrier. Then, maybe... She wondered.

She parked the car along the pavement and stared at Booth's wounded hand. Even with the tied bandage she had set, blood poured from the layers and staining his shirt where his hand rested. Booth cracked an eye open as the car had stopped to move. He met Brennan's worried stare.

"It's okay Bones. I'm fine"

Without a word, she stepped out of the car and went to his door. She opened it, and put an arm around his waist to support him. He was so tired , he didn't even argue, beside the comfort of feeling her body close to him was attracting. As her side met Booth's chest, she felt the heat coming from his body. His soft breath tickled her hair in a caress.

Trying not to lean too heavily on her, Booth balanced his weight on the other side. That move sent a sharp pain in his left side as they walked to her apartment.

When they arrived, she helped him to sit on the couch. Bringing his injured hand to him, he felt the air burning inside his lungs. He wheezed painfully. Beads of sweat stood out of his forehead. He never really felt so damn tired. Excepted when he'd been tortured in the middle east. His head rolled back, leaning on the couch. The pain in his side hadn't decreased since they had left the Jeffersonian. He could feel the heat coming from it, teasing him. His eyes crossed the deep crystal blue of her partner.

"I'm fine Bones," he said, taking a sweet voice.

"Stop repeating this Booth! Because you're not!" she stated angrily. She stood before him, hands on her hips. "You can pretend to be fine in front of others, but you cannot inveigle me Booth. I' m totally capable to see when something is bothering you. Right, I'm not sensitive as you are, but I still have a heart and a brain to do the math." she spoke quickly, throwing the words at him like they burn her tongue.

"Let me see your hand," she commanded. He let her pulled his wounded hand to her as she sat on a small table in front of him.

"The bleeding hadn't really stopped! We should go to the hospital"

"Nope" said Booth, grinning. "I came to your place so no hospital!"

"But" she began, her eyes almost imploring.

"No point to argue, Bones I meant it, I'm too tired for that!"

"So you admit it!" she stated, with a look of victory.

"What?" he pulled back his hand to his chest from her soft fingers.

"That you are tired, it means you are not fine!" she concluded with a satisfied look, her arms crossed over her chest.

" C'mon Bones, could you stop for a second analyzing everything I say?" he tightened his chest as he tried to suppress a caught.

Brennan watched intensely Booth features whitening. "We need to stop that bleeding, Booth"

"Another dressing would be fine," he broke in, "it's bleeding because I squeezed my hand, otherwise your bandage would have been fine." His chocolate eyes deepened into Brennan.

Giving up, she stood up and went to her room. One minute later, she was back with a big orange plastic box.

She sat beside Booth, and opened the box. It contained dressing, gauze, scissor, alcohol and other medical tools that Booth didn't recognize. Gently, she took his bandaged hand and started to cut the strips once again. For the first time since his nightmares had started, Booth felt his muscles relaxing. He deepened his back in the couch. Having Brennan just beside him, her body, her scent, he felt good as some of the pain faded out. For a moment, just a moment he told to himself, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

Brennan watched satisfied as her partner had stopped to play Superman to become Clark Kent. His head rolled lazily to her shoulder. She smiled. Finally, he was letting her inside. As she cleaned the wound, she noticed another bandage under his sleeve. She finished to bandage his hand, but this time she had wrapped it with a thick layer of gauze to be sure it would stop the bleeding.

Slowly, as she didn't want to awake him, she pulled backwards his vest's sleeve, revealing his wrist. An old bandage stained of blood that had turned into a brown spot circled his wrist. Her eyes stared at it, her thought went from anger to sadness as she realized Booth had hidden a lot of things lately. Moving slowly, as his head rested limply on her shoulder, she grabbed his other arm. She had to be sure, to confirm her thoughts. Raising the sleeve, she discovered the same bandage around the wrist. Tears threatened to wet her eyes. Her mind raced, her eyes gazing at Booth's tired features. Two bandages around his wrists, and so very close of the carpal meant he had probably been tied to something. At the size of the bandages, she estimated he had struggled hardly to break free. Her throat tightened. To struggle like that he had to be in a great deal of pain. She wasn't able anymore to stop the tears that rolled from her cheeks to Booth's hand. Her hand stroked his dark brown hair. They were warm and wet by sweat.

Her touch awoke Booth as his eyelids slowly opened. He blinked to clear his vision. Brennan was beside him, her face wet and sadden. She rubbed her eyes trying to hide the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

As he swallowed, Booth threw her a weak smile. "I'm sorry, Temperance"

For Brennan he didn't need to apologize about anything. Someone had done horrible things to him. For whatever reasons, he had kept that as a secret. Probably, because he thought she would act as she was doing now, crying.

Her voice came full of care, "Don't be," she laid her palm on his forehead. It was burning."You need to rest. We'll talk tomorrow."

She helped him to get to his feet, supporting his weight again. She could get used to feel him so close. She hid a smile as they walked together in the direction of her spare room.

Heaving, he sat loudly to the bed, and watched her trying to strip him from his vest.

"You should have asked if you wanted to see me naked," he joked, shooting her a big wink.

"You're sweating. It would be easier to rest if you're not wet. You should take a shower" she said, as she took one sleeve off.

He pulled away the rest of the vest. "ah thanks Bones, I can do the rest", he said his moves uneasy.

"Are you sure?" she stared at him, her look suspicious. "Okay" she grabbed a pair of towel in a closet and laid them on the bed. "I'll be in the parlor if you need me" and she left the room.

Booth sighed heavily. It wasn't going to be easy to hide his latest injuries to Brennan. She had probably noticed his wrists when he was sleeping. That could explain why he saw tears in her eyes when he woke up.

With efforts, he got rid off his now blooded shirt and t-shirt, tossing them onto the bed. Slowly, he strolled to the bathroom. The water was hot, and it warmed his sore muscles. He had managed to keep his new dressing out of the water, but despite his best effort his other wrist got totally drench. Especially, when he had to tighten his chest after a long and blunt caught. With all his loss of memory, he'd just happened to forget to strap his ribs this morning. He knew by doing so, if a loss of memory is doing something anyway, that he added more pain to his day. Turning off the tap, he grabbed a towel and got dry. Quickly, he slipped into his paints, tossed the towel over his shoulder and walked limply to the bed. Feeling exhausted, he crashed into the bed, he laid on his back, his head prodding into the soft and downy pillow. With the idea of staying for the first time in Brennan's apartment, he drew the towel to his chest, in case she would come to check on him while the night and slumbered in dream.

ooooooo

Meanwhile, Brennan bent over her computer. As careful as he happened to be, Zack had called and had sent her his latest discoveries. As Booth's door was ajar she could imagine from the sounds she heard what he was doing. She didn't dare to intrude when she heard the shower being turned off. She deeply wanted to rush in the room and help him anyway she could possibly imagine. As she recalled the difficulties he had to stand for a long period of time.

That's why, she stayed alert, waiting for a crash or a bump that would warn her, he had fallen on the floor. However, as she held her breath, nothing came, and she was glad when she finally heard the crunches of the bed. He made it, she thought. She was relieve, he didn't flee the city, as well.

After few minutes of silence, she couldn't resist to go to check on Booth. From her seat, she noticed the light was still on. She knocked on the door, and peeked inside. The soft light shaded Booth's shape on the bed. She frowned. Why he didn't slip under the covers . The room was a bit cold. Deciding he would cool while the night she pushed silently the door and headed to his still form.

As her feet stepped on the soft carpet of the room, she listened to his shallow breathing. His arms rested in a cross on the bed, his chest partly covered with a towel. Like a mother tucking her child in, she dragged the towel over his chest. Unfortunately, that unveiled a part of his lower chest. She flushed as she peeped at his uncovered skin. Gently, she sat on the bed beside him and drew softly the towel back. Her hand frozen as she peeked dark brown bruises on his skin. Holding her breath, she raised the towel and revealed his broken ribs. The skin was darkening over the bruises. She felt a sting behind her eyes. The image was so insufferable. Booth's torso was covered of dark blue and brown bruises. On his left side, she noticed a crimson symbol carved in his flesh. From the color she deduced it was from a burn. But what freaked her out, was the form it took, a star in a circle. Her finger touched softly the burn, she needed to feel it by herself, if it was the reality. Her gut squeezed, imagining the pain of the burn and being fettered.

Beneath her finger, she could still feel the dried blood from the burn. His skin was hot, too hot, the heat pouring from his body. No wonder he didn't get under the covers. By her touch she would have bet he was over 100. Meaning the fever had increased since they had left the Jeffersonian. As her fingers lasted on his ribs to check the fractures, he let a weak moan out. The spot was too sensitive, and as he was asleep he wasn't playing the tough hero man anymore, it was just him, and the naked truth that he was deeply injured. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her heart squeezed. In a swift move, she put her hand over her mouth trying to stifle her sobs. The man laying in this room was her partner, her best friend and... She couldn't add other words as anger stroke her, whoever had done that to Booth was going to pay for it, she swore mentally.

From the color of the skin, she calculated his ribs had been broken at two different times. She remembered when it happened the first time but not the second times. Something had happened to Booth between yesterday and this morning. Slowly, she laid back the towel over his chest. Her sight stared at his relaxed face. For tonight he would be okay, she hoped, and tomorrow they will eventually talk.

She stood up carefully to not arouse him from a sleep well deserved. She turned off the light, plunging the room in darkness. Leaving the room, she kept the door ajar in case he would need something while the night. A dim ray of light crossed the bed near Booth's head, lighting a part of his face. She gazed at his cheekbone enlightened by the parlor glow. It felt good to know him here with her safe. She let a sigh, as her shoulder relaxed finally, her mind playing with fantasy the if game. Her lips curled, as she let a smile raised to her face, her eyes sparkling like a kid on Christmas day as ideas crossed her mind.

After a while, she detached her eyes from the contemplation of her partner's sweet features, and headed to the couch.

Comfortably installed, her laptop on her knees. She resumed her previous analysis from the data, Zach had sent her earlier. As she immersed herself in the data, she forgot about time. Zack had finally found the weapon used to dismember the hands. As for the others limb, the worst had been done with a saw. Her eyes widened at the description Zack had come to think of. She hoped somehow the man had been dead before the dismembering happen. Though the arm that belonged to the still missing hand from Zack's analysis wore traces of clotted blood around the wrist, like if the hand had been cut long enough before the man actually died. That first amputation had so occurred when he was alive.

ooooooo

She was laying beside him, her legs around his own like two snakes entangled. The touch of her breast weighting lightly on his chest, skin to skin, felt appeasing. His left arm cuddled her shoulder, keeping her close to him. He smiled as he stroked her hair with his left hand, playing with them. Her face nestled deepest under his chin as her breath caressed his skin arousing him. If only they could stay like this forever, he wondered. Booth embraced Brennan's body with his other arm. She looked so beautiful.

He wanted to keep her safe from any harm, but he realized he had failed as her warm body change into a sharp cold body. Instead she was dying in his arms, her body covered with slick blood, making hard for Booth to hold her. His grip slipped as his hands were soaked with blood, her blood. Tears ran down his eyes as he called her name, shouting. He buried his face inside her neck, stifling his sobs as he repeated her name, like a spell, and started to sway. It couldn't be true. Something wasn't right, he had to be dreaming. Bones couldn't die. "Temperance don't leave me, please" he said imploring.

A terrible laugh came from over him. "You're the one who got her killed" stated the voice "You don't deserve to live, monster"

The words felt like sharp blade as penetrated his heart. He was no monster, he didn't recall how she'd gotten injured, but he wouldn't have let it happen. Raising his eyes full of tears, Booth sought in the darkness where the voice was from. Cuddling Brennan's still form, he realized they were laid on a concrete floor. He frowned, his mind racing to put his ideas together. A blunt headache pounded in his head as he tried to remember. The last thing he recalled was to be in Bones' apartment. At that time, he was in her spare room, she had bandaged his left hand, and he ...Obvious confusion in his eyes. He had probably been fast asleep. The place where he was now was dark and too quite. In a burst of anger, he punched the floor with his left hand. As his knuckles collided with the concrete, he heard some of them broke shooting a sharp pain along his arm. Slowly, he opened his hand and clutched into a fist. His fingers hurt, but the palm was okay. He stared at it for few minute, the pain in his arm had never felt so good. Now he knew, this was just another nightmare, it wasn't true. Bones was alive, somewhere outside his dream. His jaws relaxed, his heart started to beat again, everything was still possible. Brennan's body vanished from his hands like an apparition. But he didn't care, as his true Bones was alive.

ooooooo

Her heart pounded hard as she burst in his room. Since she heard him screamed her name, she felt a surge of panic invading her mind. Jerking at her name, she had tossed her laptop on the couch and had rushed in his room. What she discovered, squeezed her heart. Booth was crying, his face had reddened from the flow of tears running down his cheeks.

"Booth" she called. "Booth wake up, this isn't real, you're dreaming" she stated, her voice had turned into a rasp as tears started to form in her eyes and her throat had tightened.

She leant over him and laid beside him. His body was burning as the fever had increased, soaking his body with sweat.

With slow motion, she cuddled his wet upper body into her embrace. She couldn't risk injuring him more with his broken ribs. As she got closed to his face, she felt him shivering in her arms. "Bones" he muttered in sobs. "Temperance don't leave me, please" said his imploring voice.

"I'm right here Booth, it's gonna be okay," she said, her voice trying to sooth his pain away. She hoped it was true, but it was something he would have told her in a reversed situation. She stroked his dark brown hair with her finger, as she let him cried in her neck. "I'm right here Booth," she repeated, her eyes filled with tears. Slowly, his sobs faded and his body relaxed in her arms.

ooooooo

He shook his mind. He had to focus if he wanted to get away from this dream. He raised to his feet and looked into the darkness that surrounded him. Like the last time, he had no shoes, but this time he was just wearing his jeans. He crossed his arms around his chest. The place was chilly and smelt death. Wherever his sight wandered, it was only obscurity, not a dim light at all.

If he wanted to wake up, he would need to find a way out from here. He took an unsteady step, then another. His bare feet came across graveled and dust. Suddenly, a sharp white light enlightened him. Flashing into his eyes, he closed them reflexively, his right arm raised to hide them from the light. But too late to catch the baseball bat coming from the right. The blow stroke hardly in his right side, tearing him a scream, as he kneeled, his arms cuddling his chest. Blood fell on the concrete as he spilled it out.

"It's a dream, Seel, remember" he told to himself, gasping.

"Yes, it's a dream agent Booth, and each time you'd be asleep, I'll be there, waiting for you" the dark priest appeared from the shadows. "Although, now that we are linked, I can reach you even if you are not sleeping. But guess what, it's just better fun when you are asleep, there's so many things I can do, and it's much more painful." his lips raised in a scorn as he watched Booth kneeled on the floor, gasping, blood running from his mouth.

Booth turned to face his opponent but not in time to avoid the second blow right into his shoulder. The baseball bat collided with his shoulder blade, throwing him on the floor.

"Is that hurt?" asked sneering the priest.

Booth tried to raise to his knees, he wanted to wipe out that smile from that bastard's face, but failed deplorably. Falling back on the ground, his right arm went limp against his side. His left cheek resting on the concrete, he saw the priest coming closer, the bloody baseball bat creaking on the floor as he let it crawled beside him, leaving a red line in the dust.

ooooooo

She was starting to doze off, as Booth's body relaxed in her arms. Her mind repeating to herself that he had just a bad dream. It was nothing more than a bad dream. Still it conveyed so much pain in it. But now he seemed to be okay as his tremors had vanished. She deepened her back into the pillow to be able to sustain Booth's weight without hurting more his ribs. His steady breath caressed her neck, and she couldn't suppress the idea of keeping him close to her forever. Heavy, her eyelids closed on the picture of Booth in her arm.

Suddenly, the shaking came back stronger. She heard him coughing, progressively his cough turned into a low rasping breath. She felt his muscles getting stiff like a rock. Somehow she was impressed on how he could be so strong. He really had all the alpha male attributes. Giving up her analysis of her partner, she sensed his ribs breaking like crisps under her fingers. Cold fear stabbed her stomach at the sounds of his brittle bone. As she tried to avoid the new painful spot, she felt a warm and thick liquid running along his back. Her throat tightened as she stared at her hand covered with blood. Then, Booth started to shake violently, moaning. It was hard to keep him from moving, but she bet she succeeded only because he had been weakened by all his injuries and lack of sleep.

"It's okay Booth, I'm right here". Even her soothing voice had no effects on him. The tremors increased, and he was now coughing blood. Fear to lose him overwhelmed her as she remembered the last time. "Booth, follow my voice, it's a dream," she said yelling. But he kept trembling. "just follow my voice, Booth, I'm right here, you have to trust me"

ooooooo

He prepared for the next blow. The priest aimed at his already wounded shoulder, tearing him a scream as the bone broke under the baseball bat. Booth couldn't give up that easily. He rolled on his left, avoiding another blow that crashed inches from his head, echoing in the place. At the sound, he would have sworn he was in a closed place, some kind of room. Maybe, he could find a door. He rolled on his left side again, and as it gave him some support, he raised on his elbow.

"Focus, Seel, you need to find a way out, to find Bones and see if she's okay, focus on Bones" spilling more blood, he watched the priest few feet from him. With difficulties he raised on his knees, his left back hand wiping the blood from the corner of his lips. His eyes darted to the priest with fury.

"She's already dead agent Booth. Whatever you do, you would be her doom." he smiled wickedly. "You belong to us now, and you are going to kill her for us, don't you understand?"

"I would never harm her," he shot a dark glare at the priest "whatever you've planned, it won't work" he shouted, more to convince himself.

He stopped bluntly, thinking he had heard a voice. Listening carefully,he recognized Brennan's words echoing in the room, calling his name.

"we'll see agent Booth, but for now..." he twisted the bat to strike Booth's head. Tearing his left side, Booth lifted his arm to block the strike. The bat stopped on his arm as he managed to grab it with his hand and pushed the priest from his stance.

The blow had numbed his hand. he could hear, Brennan's voice getting stronger. He started to feel his left hand aching again. As he looked at his palm, he saw blood pouring from it. His left side was thumbing again.

"No" yelled the priest. As he lifted the baseball bat over his shoulder ready for a new strike. In front of Booth, the priest started to dissolve in thin air.

" ... low my voice, ... just a dream" the voice echoed. Booth closed his eyes and focused on Brennan's voice. The room went silent. He could hear his raw breathing. It seemed the priest had vanished like his Bones the first time. He was now alone in the darkness. His heart pounded hard in his chest. "you'll kill her for us" sneered the priest from far away.

The chilly wind engulfed Booth's weakened body, his left arm rested around his bared torso. The right one hung limply on his side. Tears formed in his eyes, "I won't " he said loud, more for himself, "I won't". His voice had turned into a painful plea to God, filled with sobs, "I won't".

ooooooo

His chest was cold in her arms.

"Booth" her eyes stared at his features tensed. A line of blood slipped from the corner of his lips along his neck. His head was limp, rolled on one side against her chest, his eyes closed. She rubbed his face with her finger, and stroked his forehead, wiping out the sweat from it. Her eyes couldn't detach from him. "Booth, follow my voice, it's just a dream," she took a soothing voice, hoping it would help him to find his way to her.

Faintly, she heard his voice mumbling words. "I won't", he repeated over and over.

Her hand caressed his cheek, "It's okay, Booth, everything's gonna be fine". Tears fell from the corner of his eyes wetting her fingers.

"I won't" he mumbled again, his eyes now full of tears.

She tightened her embrace, warming his body with hers, cuddling his head under her chin "It's me, Booth, it's Temperance"

Her fingers rubbed delicately the tears from his cheeks. His eyelids blinked, and slowly opened. Brennan watched the depth of his brown eyes, his pupils were blurred and watered, his gaze lost. A knot formed in her chest, as he tried to break from her embrace. His sight full of fear.

Weakly, he moved back from her, his right arm limply hung against his side. "I won't" he muttered, his eyes empty. He slid down from the bed. Falling backwards on the carpet, he crashed on his left side, face down with a stifling gasp.

"It's okay Booth, it's me Bones" her voice shaking. "You're in my apartment, don't you remember?" she got up stepping closer to him. As she did, he crawled back, sliding on his left side like a snake. "Don't come closer!" he threatened, "I won't..." he whined, throwing the words out with pain.

A deep line curved her forehead. "You won't what?" she asked suddenly nervous.

He had almost his back against the wall. Panting, he managed to lean in a sitting position, using his left arm to push on the floor. His fingers deepened in the carpet, leaving a round crimson stain. His face darkened as she took a step forward.

"No!" he yelled, "I'm dangerous get away from me!"his eyes implored her.

Understanding what kind of turmoil was worrying him, she swiftly threw herself to him, cuddling him. Her hand brushed his neck to sooth his pain away. She let tears dripping from her eyes.

"You don't have to be afraid, see... You haven't harmed me, Booth." she said, reasoning him. "beside, if I have ever thought you'd be a threat I would have never let you in." she added smiling.

"I might change ... and... " he hesitated, his eyes crossed the crystal blue of hers. Few seconds, his mind wandered lost in the depth of her eyes, then sadness filled them, and they dropped to the floor, unable to face her. "if... " he breathed heavily, "I might hurt you without being conscious..."

She shot him a look of surprise. "Who did convince you of that, Booth?" anger in her voice, then she lowered her tone, "You're not like this, I've come to know you well, Booth, nothing will change what you are. You are not a threat to me, we are partners, there's nothing that would change our bound." she paused, her eyes wandering on the floor, "Besides, I need you."

Her words sunk in him, warming his soul. As he swallowed, he dared glancing at Brennan, seeking the truth behind her words. Their eyes met understanding each other.

"I don't want to hurt you," he uttered, sorrow filling his chocolate gaze.

Cuddling his head in her hands, "I know." she stated. "And you won't" she added, pressing his cheek against her shoulder.

"We are all humans, Booth. We can't be sure of the future, but we can try to change it," She felt him leaning on her, accepting her comfort. "Whatever happen, we'll deal with it" she said. She knew, she had no clue of what it was and how to take care of it. But Booth had taught her that sometimes, a comforting statement can be more useful when you're lost, than the dark unknown reality. It was now her turn to give him back his everyday reassuring presence, as he was too weak to find his heading. "We'll work together, Booth." Beside, she had come to know they were stronger when they were together. Nothing would stand against them as Booth was back with her.

His face buried in her shoulder. Booth felt totally lost. He should try to comfort his partner, he used to be like that, but he didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do next. Didn't know who he was anymore, or what he could become. His thoughts spun in his head, as buzzing muffled his ears. His breathing was difficult. He felt heavy and Brennan's voice became fuzzy.

"Booth, we need to get you to the hospital, you're loosing blood" her eyes darted to his scratched shoulder, blood poured from the wound, and slid along his back.

Her sight sought the room and stopped when she noticed the towel, half hanging from the bedside. Gently, she helped Booth to lean against the wall, and stretched her arm to grasp the towel. Quickly, she was back beside Booth, aiding him to lean on her. This way she was able to press the towel on his wound.

" humm, no... No hospital" he mumbled. He was so tired.

" Shh, it's okay Booth, you need it." she soothed, stroking his back. "if we don't go, then I'll have to call an ambulance"

"No, I .an't .o .her.." he muttered, his tongue was numb, and speaking was becoming a new challenge. His face raised to cross Brennan's eyes.

Brennan stared at the fear lurking in his dark brown eyes. "You have to see a doctor, Booth, let's not beat about the butch, you're not in shape to argue with me"

" Th. bush, Bon.., not the..." he paused, giving up. "Fine but you must promise . e," he swallowed in a hiss, his vision dimmed " promise me, . ou won'. leave me there" mumbled his faint voice, his eyes imploring her.

"You have my word", as she swore, she helped him to stand on his feet, pulling his left arm over her shoulder. She regretted it almost immediately, feeling his body trembling under her finger, she hoped he would hold to the car.

She knew she should call an ambulance, but if she did it, they would never let them go. She wanted to help him, and she wanted to keep her promise, but how do you manage both. She swore, only Booth was able to get her in such a conundrum situation. Finally, she was convinced of the necessity to get him to the hospital as soon as possible and driving him there was their best option, their fast option.

As they made it awkwardly to the couch, she helped him to sit and rushed to the door. She opened it in a whoosh, and headed to the elevator. Pressing on the call button, she waited for the door to open, glancing from time to time at her door, to check on Booth. The doors opened on a groove music. She pressed on stop and ran back in her parlor. Booth hadn't moved, his head rested on the back of the couch, eyes closed.

"Booth, let's go, it's not the time to sleep" she smirked, trying to relieve the tension.

Her words seemed to awake him. 'sleep, no sleeping' he thought, scared. His blurry eyes connected to Brennan. Gathering what was left of his strength, he pushed on his legs to stand. Brennan was shortly beside him, to support a part of his weight, keeping the towel on the wound. Together they crippled to the elevator. Leaning on the iron rail in the elevator, Booth waited eagerly for the door to close. His legs were shaking under him, his head thumbing and buzzing. It seemed an eternity before the doors opened again on the parking lot. Brennan pressed on stop and asked him to stay there pressing her palm against his hot soaked battered chest.

"Like I could take a walk," he answered, with a weak grin.

From far, he heard an engine firing on, followed by the squeal of tires. Brennan's car pulled on stop in front of the door. Rushing out, she skirted the car and opened widely the passenger's door.

"Just few steps Booth." she stated as she slid her arm under his left shoulder. He let her guide him to the car, and felt relieve when he finally slid in the passenger seat. She put the towel behind his back, pressing on the graze. He gazed at the windshield as the door closed, and saw Brennan crossing his view.

She slid behind the wheel and stepped on the accelerator. The car started in another squeal of tires, leaving this time smoke behind. Booth's head rolled sluggishly to the window, his sight catching the images of the street before him, enlightened like a christmas tree. It was still night outside. His vision blurred by light, he felt his entire body going limp. "Stay conscious" he told to himself, "don't sleep, c'mon". But the fight was hard, and he dozed before they made it to the ER. 

* * *

So, this is B&B fluff. I thought they deserved it after all they went thru... I know, it's still a tough time for them, but don't worry they'll get peace, somewhere in the long run, just kidding. The next part would be more fluffy (I mean, I haven't written it yet, but it will head that way).

Please review, I love to have your point of view on the story...I'll try to update soon.


	8. Be safe in my arms

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any of its characters...**

Hey, look at that, it's chapter 8. guys I have to tell you this story is taking a life of its own, and I kind of enjo it...

* * *

The hall was full of people. Ringing phones echoed in the hall. Two nurses were busy answering at the desk to people worried. Another was on the phone. Most of the people present were too concerned trying to find their own, that they didn't notice the lonely woman sat on a cold white bench. Her gaze staring at the white shining floor. For anyone present she would have looked as distressed as anyone there, but for Angela it was how her friend copped with the fear that ensnared her, trying to keep the control on her feelings, burying deep in her thoughts. 

'She must feel terrible', thought Angela. Taking Booth at her place to be sure he would be safe and finish in this clean, chlorinated hospital. She squeezed the hand she had gripped on as soon as they entered the trauma, focusing on his warmth. She hated hospitals. She glanced at her partner. Hodgins shot her a comforting wink, giving her the go ahead, it's a woman talk. She sent back a smile and headed to Brennan.

"Hey, sweetie" smiling "How's Booth?"

Brennan raised her chin, seeing her friend for the first time. "He's still in surgery," she paused, her voice was rasped. She sighed "I don't understand, Ange"

"It's okay Bren, things happen"

"It's not that Ange, when we arrived, he was fine, beside his old injuries I mean."

Angela gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean, is someone broke into your apartment?"

Brennan gazed at the floor, "I'm not sure," "I mean, Booth was in my spare room, and I stayed in the parlor all the time, I don't understand how someone would have been able to go and get out of there without being notice... It's too... "

"Spooky" finished Angela.

"I don't like this term" stated Brennan

"I know you're all too rational for that."

"Hey, doctor Brennan" threw Hodgins. Three cups of coffee steamed in his hands. "I thought you might need one of these," he said smiling. A quick look at Angela was enough to know that the conversation hadn't gone the way she had planned.

His gaze stopped on Brennan, "How is our army man?" holding up a coffee to Brennan.

"No news for now, Jack" answered Angela, she sighed as she sat beside her friend, taking Brennan's hand in her own.

"well, how did you guys ended up here?"

Angela stared at Hodgins.

Brennan raised her eyes to Hodgins, sighing. "I don't really know" "One minute, he seemed fine, and... The other he was bleeding."

"Can't it be some kind of disease?" wondered Angela. "You know like the one in Outbreak... The movie" she pushed as Brennan's eyes had widened.

"You mean, like Ebola" tried Hodgins.

"No it was not like that, the Ebola is a bleeding fever that dissolves your organs from the inside, " stated Brennan.

"uh, thanks for the description, sweetie" said Angela, pulling a face.

"What I saw was different, I've never seen this before. " added Brennan, lost. "His bones broke under my fingers, and I didn't press that much, it's like... They happened to be broken from the inside, but that's just impossible. Only rare specific genetic anomalies can produce this, and Booth has none of them. I just can't explain what happened." her shoulders dropped.

"You know, sometimes the power of the mind can be much more powerful than anything else." said Hodgins, passion in the voice.

"What do you mean, 'power of the mind'?" asked incredulously Angela.

"You know in the late fifties, the Russian had experimented with psychic telekinetic... Bending silver spoon, penetrating the mind. Moreover, as they worked, they tried to adapt to create the superhero that would be able to harm with just a thought..."

"Jack" heckled Angela, her hand pressing his shoulder, "I think we got it," she sighed, her almost husband was so hopeless sometimes.

"I don't think you really understand..." he cut in "What I'm saying is that sometimes you may believe so much in things that it happens eventually."

"That's crazy. There's no proof of any kind that anybody could do such a thing" stated furious Brennan "Why would Booth want to hurt himself?"

"Guilt" Stated Hodgins, "to amend, I don't know ..."

"No, Booth is a good man, he doesn't need to amend for..."

"No, I mean, he just had to believe he does!" said Hodgins trying to low his voice. "You know he's a big believer"

"Yes, but that's still crazy, I don't buy it. Not Booth." voiced Brennan angry.

"I agree with Brennan, Jack. Booth is not the kind of man to go crazy because he didn't handle things right. He's more an emotional one, throwing punch to a bag is more like him."

"I'm sorry." said Hodgins, apologizing "I just thought it was a plausible explanation. That doesn't mean I don't care about the guy. Well, he saved my butt once too." his ocean's eyes stared at the women in front of him.

A rasp of voice sounded behind him. As he turned, he faced a tired grey beard man in green scrubs.

"I'm the doctor Jessie Artden. Are you Mr Booth's family?"

"I'm his partner" stated Brennan, "Dr Temperance Brennan" her eyes shown worry. "How is he?"

"He's going to be okay. Besides three broken ribs, a broken shoulder and some injuries on his wrists, his current state doesn't present any threatening life problem. Though he's suffering from sleep deprivation and severe exhaustion. I'm going to keep him for the night." Three worried looks stared at him.

"Can we see him?" asked Brennan with relief.

"I don't see why not? Please follow me," he showed them the way with his hand, and started to walk with the group along a white and shining corridor.

A smell of antiseptic and chloroform teased their nostrils. After a long corridor, the doctor Artden stopped in front of the 214.

"We put him under medication, so don't expect him to talk for long." said the doctor as he left.

Brennan watched the door, hesitating.

"Go head, sweetie, we'll wait outside" she pressed her hand on Brennan's arm to reassure her.

Slowly, she pushed the door, and entered into a dim lighted room. The first thing that stroke her was his stillness. Booth was lying in a bed that seemed too big for him, his body lost under white sheets. She hadn't noticed how much he had lost weight these last days, but without his usual clothes it was obvious he slimmed. Painful images came back to her mind, as it recalled her an old blast in her kitchen. She closed her eyes as she remembered Booth laying on her kitchen floor unconscious. A shudder ran down her spine.

"Bones?", whispered a faint voice.

"I'm here, Booth," she said, laying her hand on his own. It tore her heart to see him in this shape, his hand usually so warm, was cold and limp.

Her eyes crossed his chocolate gaze. "How do you feel?" she noticed they had bandaged his hand, and his shoulder was splinted, immobilizing his right arm. His bare chest was a mess, where the pink of his skin was not visible anymore, stained with so much dark brown and blue bruises.

He tried to give his best charming smile but failed into a bad wincing as he tried to sit, and finally opted for the truth, "I've felt better"

"You shouldn't move Booth, you're not ready yet"

He shot her a puzzled look, "I'm leaving, don't you remember? I'm not staying here"

"The doctor thinks it would be best for you to stay the night and take a rest."

"I don't!" raising his voice, which in his current state only concurred to make him caught.

"I think you should calm down, they gave you something to sleep, it would be wiser to..." she stopped as she saw Booth pulling off his IV with his free hand, leaving a red scratch on the back of his hand. "You can't do that, Booth"

"Oh yeah! Watch me!" he said as he lifted his sheets. I'll go anyway, and you gonna give me a hand" wincing, he realized he was half naked, and drew the sheets to his chest.

"But..." tried Brennan.

"You promised me, Bones!" raising his voice again, "I can't stay, I... can't sleep"

"Why, Booth?" she asked, her voice was mixed with anger and sadness.

He leant back against the pillow, his sight lost in the ceiling. His chest twinged painfully. The words of the priest came back in his head 'it's just better fun when you are asleep'. It scared him to sleep. The worst was his last words, 'you're going to kill her for us', he couldn't bear the idea of hurting his Bones. What if he falls in another dream? What if it was the trigger to hurt his Bones? He couldn't let that happen. He had to get out of the hospital before they drug him.

"Booth?"

"Temperance, you just have to trust me." his dark brown eyes deepened in her soul, raising feelings she had carefully buried. "I'll tell you everything I know when we will be out of this place."

She sustained his dazzling brown stare, thinking.

"You will have to keep those scrubs," she stated finally, "I haven't brought you other clothes, it's not like I had some anyway"

He grinned, "that would be fine"

Without a word, she left his room. Booth watched her leaving, a bit anxious, but he shook the feeling. He trusted her.

As she closed the door, she leant her forehead against it, sighing. Sometimes Booth could be so stubborn. However, in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but admit he was right. She would do the same. It was his life after all, and he was big enough to take care of him. Now, she had to convince the doctor, damn, what was his name again? Booth was right, it was important to remember such things.

"Sweetie?" asked a voice behind her. "Are you okay?" Angela put her hand on her back.

"I'm just tired, don't worry Ange. Did you see Booth's doctor, I can't recall his name ."

"Yeah, it's the doctor Artden and his office is on the left and the second right. Is Booth okay?"

"Yes, but he needs some rest. " she sighed. "He wants to leave the hospital." throwing the words out.

Angela grinned, "So the superhero is back! Is that not dangerous. As I recall the last time he did, he came back crawling although you were there to give him a ride."

"Yes. I know it might sound silly, but I think he's right."

"Ho, oh! Are you going with your gut, baby" joked about Hodgins . He had joined them silently, in the middle of the conversation.

Brennan shot him a scowl, mixed with a small smile. The reference of 'gut' was just making her think of Booth and his undeniable faith in ' gut feeling'.

"Maybe" she smiled "Still, I don't think that any part of the digestive system would really help me to convince his doctor to let him go" she stated very serious.

"Maybe, you should flee together?" tried Hodgins.

Angela shot an elbow in Hodgins' chest "Are you out of your mind? This isn't a conspiracy, Jack, get back in the reality!"

"Why? The reality is made of information we heard and agreed to."

"What does it have to do with Booth's situation?"

"I told you before, wrong beliefs can alter judgment and so lead to wrong decisions. It's not as crazier than thinking of magic spell or vengeful spirit," he stated, a bit furious. His face had turned red.

"Spell?" wondered Angela, "Vengeful spirit?"

Brennan's eyes widened, "I have to talk to the doctor Artden" she intervened, happy to have an excuse to get out of this discussion. She sent an apologizing look to her friend.

"Oh, before I forget, Zack asked me to give you this, I think it's his late report on the case" Hodgins hold her a brown file, filled with pictures.

"Thanks, I'll see that later" said Brennan as she left.

"Jack, you really have to learn how to behave in public" stated Angela, hands on her hips. "this isn't a funny game. Booth had been injured, more than once, and I'll bet Brennan is as confuse as he is. If we don't hold, where the hell do you think they'll get help?"

He sighed, swaying his head side to side "I'm trying to help. I do appreciate Booth as a friend too you know!" raising his arms defenseless. "But please, give a thought at what I've said." He leant close to her.

She faked a scowl, sighing. "You know me, I'm a big forgiver."

**  
**ooooooo

Left, then second right, remembered Brennan. 'Okay, that must be his office'. She gathered her thoughts, and concentrate on the goal, Booth out of this hospital. She knocked at the door and waited for the usual answer to enter. As a low yes came, she pushed the door and entered.

"Doctor Artden, I'm doctor Brennan. We met few minutes ago."

"Yes, yes, I remember. Please enter, it's my pause, do you want a cup of coffee." he showed her a seat beside his desk.

"No thanks, I've just come by to tell you, agent Booth prefers to leave tonight. He feels in shape to make it to my home. I'll take care of him there. I have a good knowledge in medicine, so if you just tell me, what I should be aware of? It would be really useful."

The doctor sat in the chair, in front of his desk, his eyes analyzing Brennan.

"Doctor Brennan, I'm not... " he paused, "In what field are you?"

"Anthropology"

"Anthropology, okay. You see, my patient, your partner as I recall, may feel good enough to leave, but when it's come to my patient well being, it's my decision. Not your partner. I have to say no. It's too soon. I really don't think he can be up and about. He's too weak for that."

Brennan sighed. "It might surprise you, but I agree with you. Still, you don't know agent Booth. If he says he wants to get out, he will. Knowing him, I would prefer he does it with backup, says me."

"I see... Did you know that your friend suffered from multiple fractures? Fractures that had no time to heal yet?" stated the doctor Artden as he sipped from his coffee cup.

"I'm aware of his state, though I don't have all the details, yet" she said, hoping, she'd get them when they would be back at her place. "And as you said, he has no life threatening problem, so it would be wise to let him go. I'm vouching for him,"added Brennan.

"You're vouching for him" repeated the doctor amused. "We're not in a court here, doctor Brennan." He paused seeing her eyes confused by his words. "Alright, I give up" he held her a sheet of paper. "Just make sure he signs this before leaving. Ah, one more thing, you'll have to take this with you," he added, showing something in a corner of his office.

She grabbed the paper half hiding a smile at the thing the doctor Artden was pointing at.

ooooooo

The wheelchair squealed on the graveled of the parking lot as Brennan lead Booth to her car.

"This is really useless, Bones. I can walk" He was sitting curled in the wheelchair. His knees put together, as the wheelchair seemed too small for him. Wearing scrubs, he felt weak and defenseless without his own clothes. Though he was weak, he thought.

Brennan pushed the wheelchair next to her car, and opened the door.

"Stop whining, you're out. That's what you wanted, besides let me have some fun." she grinned as she saw the grim look he shot her.

"Hey, that's not everyday that I can drive you anywhere I want" she smiled, her eyes sparkled amused. She faced him.

"You enjoyed this," he stated, faking hurt.

She leant over him, her hands resting on the arms of the wheelchair "You have no idea" their faces were just inches away. Her breath tickled his mouth. A weak smile curved Booth's lips. How could he resist at those deep blue eyes ? A warm feeling invaded his soul, it felt good to argue with her, feel her that close.

She probably understood what he felt, as she couldn't detach her eyes from his deep chocolate gaze.

A sharp cold pain broke the moment as it went through his chest. She caught his wince, as the pain invaded his eyes.

"Let's get you home," she said softly, and opened the passenger's door.

He nodded, as the pain had just emptied his lungs.

ooooooo

It was 2 am, when they arrived at Brennan's place. She helped him to sit in the couch, and went into her room. She came back with two big blankets and pillows. Booth smiled as the pile went over Brennan's head. She put her burden on the small table, smiling at Booth.

"You don't want to sleep, but you still have to stay warm," she said as she put a pillow behind his back and wrapped him like a kid in a creamy downy blanket.

Then she sat beside him, drawing the other blanket over her lap and waited. They stayed like that for few minutes, the parlor silence. Finally, she glanced at Booth, her eyes asking to hear his story. His tired eyes took a picture of Brennan. He wanted to print her image in his mind. Swallowing, he plunged his eyes inside hers.

"It's kind of weird, you're going to think I've lost my mind," he said trying to sound rational.

"Booth, whatever happened, I'm sure there's a good explanation. And it's not that you are crazy." she stated, sure of her words. "I think I know you well enough, to state that there's nothing that would change my thoughts about you." her eyes stressed her words, encouraging him to go on.

A faint smile crossed Booth's features as he leant his head to the back of the couch, his eyes wandering to the ceiling.

"I have been having nightmares lately, about two weeks from now." he paused, breathing slightly. "These nightmares had become very vivid the last three days. First, I thought it was just exhaustion and my mind playing tricks with me, but..." he sighed "I started to hear voices when I was awakened." He closed his eyes, he couldn't risk to see her expression, it would hurt him too much to find that he had lost her trust.

He felt her fingers slid in his left hand, encouraging him to resume. A new strength invaded his body.

"It was really spooky. I had no control of it. It just came and lasted. And I didn't know why and how it was possible!" his voice raised. "I still don't know how to make it stop" he swallowed, meeting Brennan's eyes "like it had happened tonight."

She saw distress floating in his sight. She couldn't imagine what ideas had crossed his mind as he had thought he was loosing it. She felt a chill ran through her body. His eyes started to close and open again. Sleep was claiming him.

"Do you have coffee here?" he asked, a bit afraid of going back to his nightmares.

"Yes, I have. I'm going to make some, don't sleep okay?" she raised to her feet, heading to the kitchen. It wasn't going to be simple to keep him awake, she thought. Furthermore, he had already in his veins, some sleeping drugs from the hospital, not a lot, but still in his state, it was going to be a tough night for him. She sighed, wondering when he would be able to get on with his life. "Booth?" she called pouring spoons of coffee in the machine. She stopped a worry line appeared on her forehead, and went into the parlor. Booth was dozing heavily, his head bending to his chest. She kneeled beside him. Her hand cupped his chin gently raising his head, "Booth, hey!" sas he tried to establish eye contact with him. His skin was hot under her fingers. She crossed his tired stare. "You still have a lot of things to tell me." she smiled lightly "Don't think you can leave me after the cliffhanger you've left", she joked, trying to light the situation.

She saw his gaze becoming more focus, as the meaning of her words reached him. He smiled faintly "Sorry", his features were tensed.

Thinking, she grabbed her purse and pulled a small box from it. She opened it and tossed two pills in her hand.

"That's your pain killer," she said as she put them in his bandaged hand, "I got it from your doctor".

He looked at them, unsure. She went back to the kitchen, pressed on the coffee machine and grabbed a glass of water. Then, she sat beside him, holding the glass for him. Trusting Brennan, Booth tossed the pills in the back of his throat and swallowed them with water. She stared at him.

"What?" he asked a bit worried.

She bit her lower lips. "How do you feel? I mean really?"

He pondered her words, she was going for the truth. His tongue passed on his lips. "I...I feel exhausted... like I'm living a never ending day, that repeats again and again." he sighed heavily, "And I can't change a bit of it" his face showed hopelessness.

She stayed quite, letting him get some times to gather his thoughts. Her palm pressed his hand gently. He glanced at her. His eyes had taken a deep dark brown color, shading the reflection of his eyes. He swallowed. His face was so sad, noticed Brennan.

"I think it's a good time for a guy hug," she stated, confident.

He observed her for few seconds. Their eyes met as the mood changed. She opened her arms inviting him, her heart beating fast. Let me in Booth, she thought.

Finally, he leant in her arms, burying his face in her neck. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she felt nervous.

"For being so weak," he whispered, a knot formed in his throat, he couldn't face her.

She tightened her embrace. "Don't say that! I never meet someone as strong as you are. It's a kind of new for me."

He leant deeper in her arms. He wanted to forget everything, and just stay in her arms forever.

She stroke his hair, hugging him tight as she felt his body beginning to relax.

Finally, she decided to get back on the subject. "What happened in your dreams, Booth?" He had to tell her, she could feel it would help him. She sensed him stiffening.

"I don't always recall them," he muttered. "Most of the time, I just... remember the pain,"

"Did your dreams occurred each time before you are injured?" she asked, anxious.

She felt him sighing in her neck. "Kind of,"

She frowned "What do you mean? What happened?"

He closed his eyes, this was going to be hard to tell. "In the dream,... there's always a man dressed in ceremonial dress. And... Let's just said he doesn't like me."

A knot formed in her chest "when you're in that dream, do you believe he is going to hurt you?"

"What do you mean, I believe?" he paused, facing her. His sight locked in her eyes, sadness filled them. "Do you think I want to get hurt. Cause I can tell you how much I've fought to avoid his blows!"

She could see in his eyes he was hurt. "I'm trying to understand what's going on, Booth!". He fought to avoid blows, wondered Brennan, was it like a battle each time he was asleep? It must be terrifying to wake up in those dreams, knowing what's going to happen and having no control on it.

"So I'm nuts!" he voiced as he broke their hug.

"No you're not. I'm just stating the fact" understanding her mistake, she bit her lips. She had said she trusted him, and now she could see he felt hurt. "I would like to understand what's happening to you. I'm sure you're not crazy, but something is happening, and maybe that's because of a drug,... a virus,... but I won't be certain of it until you tell me everything you know, Booth," she spoke quickly, hoping it would calm him.

He stared at her. He really had to calm down, he thought, getting touchy wasn't like him. He took a deep breath. "I understand" he muttered. His bandaged hand ran in his dark brown hair.

"So, that's how it happened." she said, as she grabbed his hand. "each time in your dream"

"not exactly", he swallowed, staring at her face. "sometimes it happens when I'm conscious."

She felt an icy knife stabbing her heart. "Like today, when you left Angela and me to hide in the men's"

He nodded, "I didn't want to worry you Bones, besides it was just itching when I left,... I..." he dropped his sight on the floor.

"I know" she intervened, thoughtful.

"Is your dream took place at the same place each time, or is it just, you know like in dreams, a dark place, but you can't put your finger on it?"

A shadow crossed his eyes, scaring Brennan. "It happened several times in one place," he paused.

"Do you remember where it was?" she asked, suddenly nervous.

"In a swamp" he whispered.

Her eyes widened "the same we'd been two days ago?" she inquired, becoming very anxious.

He sighed heavily,"Yes".

"I understand now why you behaved so weirdly when we're there. You should have told us, Booth"

"I wasn't sure, okay" feeling a bit angry, like she accused him of doing something wrong. He breathed deeply, his side had stopped to hurt, still his mind was fuzzy.

"Sorry, you're tired, and I'm not helping" she apologized.

"No Bones, I'm too high. It's not your fault." he leant back in the pillow, closing his eyes.

He let the silence fill the room. He finally broke it after few minutes, "There's something else", his voice was unsure.

She leant softly against his shoulder with complicit. She thought it would show her support to go on, and waited for him to resume.

"I don't know if it was a dream or the reality, but I know something happened last night..." His sigh wandered in the room, "I just remember fragments of it."

"Is it when you've gotten your wrist hurt?"

"I guess",he paused, his mouth was dry, "I remember being in my apartment, and that damn bastard was there too." his jaws tightened.

"Perhaps, we should stop by there after the coffee. I mean, you do need real clothes," she stated, grinning at his scrubs. "And you might be able to recall more things there"

Thinking of it, he missed his clothes. He sent her a weak smile, she was right.

Seeing he agreed with her, she stood up. "Then, we'll do that. " she stated "But first, we need coffee. She headed to the kitchen and came back few minutes later with a tray she put on the wooden table in front of Booth.

He stared at her, a puzzled look on his face. The tray was full of cookies, donuts and other cakes. "What's that for?"

"For a cop sometimes you could be more perceptive Booth!" she threw smiling.

"What?" sometimes he really had trouble to follow her mind, he thought.

"It's cakes. I think their purpose is to be eaten by people like you and me," she explained.

He smiled, amused, " No, I mean, why did you bring those?"

She sighed "Booth, I don't recall seeing you eating before, you know..." her gaze dropped on his right shoulder and then on his side. "And you seem getting slimmer lately"

He blushed, "Thanks" as a matter of fact, now that he had all of these foods in front of him, he felt hungry.

"Oh, it's Angela. I asked her at the hospital to get me some of these before we leave."

She sat in the armchair in front of him, and started to pour coffee in two cups. She put one next to him and sipped a bit of hers, cupping it with her hands. Her shoulders relaxed as she watched her partner biting in a donut covered of pink icing. Deep inside, she hoped the things were going to be better for him. She smiled as he glanced at her. Sometimes the best moment was to be with someone you care for, knowing he was alright. They were going to be okay, she thought... she hoped.

* * *

So, in this chapter, I tried to develop more of B&B friendship/love and complicity in this part, what do you think so far ...?

Please R&R...


	9. memories

**Author's note :** First, I'm must say I'm really sorry for the delay, but life can be as complex as a story. Long week, and the next would be the same, so I don't know if I could update the next chapter before next thursday. Still I'll do my best... so let's get back to the story.

**Disclaimer :** As always, I don't own Bones or any ot its characters...

**Spoilers :** some references to episodes from the first season

* * *

The sun rose lightly, bathing Brennan's apartment in soft orange color. Booth was still sitting in front of Brennan, in the couch. She gave him an anxious look, as she stared at his tired features. They had talked all the night, about his nightmares, about Parker, and he even told her a few things about his past in the middle east. She was glad he had shared all of this with her, still she was afraid about his lack of sleep. It had been three days since he started to have these wounds. She knew, he had troubles to sleep for at least a week, it meant as the doctor Artden had observed, he suffered from severe exhaustion. Today added one more sleepless night to his state. She crossed his deep brown stare. A line appeared on his forehead as he gave her a tired smile.

"A penny for your thoughts" he said, even if he could bet he already knew what she was thinking. As always she was worried about him.

"Oh, I was thinking that if you are ready maybe we should get going. It would be better to drive without all the traffic"

She was good, he thought, smiling. He knew her too well to know when she was lying, like now. He rubbed his tired eyes. "Yep, it's a good idea. You wanna drive?"

"Like you could with your arm splinted that way," she said, pointing to his right arm immobilized against his chest.

"You know, I've done it before, Bones," he said smirking.

"Well, I'm sure you did. However, not today, I'll prefer to live few years again" she stated seriously. She stood up from the chair.

He faked to be hurt, pressing his left hand on his heart, "Hey, hurting a wounded man is not fair Bones," he added, with a cocky smile.

She glanced at him, analyzing her possible answers. "You're not going to let me win, are you?"

His lips curled in a faint smile "Nope". Leaning on the left arm of the couch, he pushed with his free arm to raise to his feet. A small wince appeared on his face as he stood.

Brennan watched him, "Will you be okay?" she inquired.

"With all the cookies and donuts I ate, I guess I'll have enough strength for the whole week," he said, a sparkle in the eyes.

The sun had now fully risen, enlightening her whole apartment and where they stood. She stepped, inches from him. She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to show her how strong he was. That he could let his pain flowed as he did few hours ago. Locking her eyes in his chocolate stare, she swallowed the words. After all, it was his way to cope with the situation, how could she blame him to try to appear as a rock, even if he was ready to fall . Deep inside, his hero side was back. They shared a lot of things this night, that wasn't going to change their partnership, but surely, she thought, it will help her to understand him better.

He saw her coming close to him. He could feel her breath on his face. A sunray lighted her cheekbones, revealing her soft skin. He gazed at her crystal blue eyes. He wanted to stroke her cheek, feel her warmth under his fingers.

"We should go" said her strangled voice.

He tried to hide the emotions that invaded his body. "Like you said, I can't drive, so... Lead the way, Bones." He whispered.

Stepping back, she grabbed his left arm and smile, "Let's get you some clothes then."

She drove him to the door, her mind wondering about strange feelings she shouldn't have, mostly not about his partner.

ooooooo

It took less than twenty minutes to get to Booth's place. As she planned, the traffic was fluid early in the morning. When they entered his apartment, the clock on the corridor showed 7:15.

He quickly walked to his bedroom, leaving Bones in the parlor. Opening his closet, a smile appeared on his lips, happy to get rid of these scrubs he wore all night. Digging between his shirts. "I have drinks in the fridge, Bones. Feel free to behave at home," he yelled from the bedroom. He stripped from the paints and slipped into one of his jeans. Unfortunately, getting the splint off was not that easy. Tired he gave up as his shoulder was shooting pain.

He sighed, he would have really enjoyed a hot shower, but with the bandages and the splint around his shoulder, he couldn't. Well, at least he still could shave. He went to the bathroom and stopped. Unsure of what he had heard. His eyes sparkled at the thought. Someone had turned on the tv. Actually his Bones had turned on the tv. He smiled to himself, that woman was full of surprise. Leaning on the sink, he bravely faced the truth in the mirror. He was a wreck. His eyes deepened in his face. They were red and circled by dark lines that cut with his white and grey features. A small brown beard gave to the whole a dead look, like a man on the threshold of death.

His shoulders dropped. He swallowed, he had no time to complain right now, he persuaded himself. The best option right now was to get back on the road, find that damn bastard and be sure Bones would be safe, even if it means he had to... He stopped. Let's just focus on now, he reminded to himself. Taking his razor in the left hand, he pressed it against his cheek lightly, as his grip was hard with his bandaged hand.

It took him, twice the time he used to get shaved. Both because, it hurt to use his left hand, and because it was not his good hand at all. When he was done, he stared once more in the mirror. Without the beard he looked a bit healthier, in a word, he hoped. He went back to the bedroom and grabbed a dark blue sweatshirt with a zipper. He took off the splint, and tried to strip from the green hospital top. He winced, his right arm hung on his side, shooting cold stabs in his shoulder. He shouldn't have taken off that splint, he thought. Finally, he gave up, sighing heavily. Still wearing the green shirt, he glanced at the parlor's door.

Brennan was lost in her thoughts when Booth joined her, sitting on the couch beside her. Her eyes unlocked from the screen, where a speaker was showing where the rain was going to fall in the next two days in Virginia. She looked at Booth, her eyes widened in surprise.

"I never thought you liked that hospital shirt," she smirked, teasing.

"I was wondering if you could help me with it, not that you would make fun of me," he admitted, his voice low.

"Uh, sure" she looked at the splint in his hand. "That's not wise to take this off" she said pointing at the splint.

He sighed, "You know Bones, that's the point if I want to get rid of this shirt, just... never mind" he stood up, ready to leave.

"Hey, c'mon, don't be so touchy! Let me help." She said, smirking. She stood up and tried to help him to get the left sleeve away, as he contracted his arm against his side. She stopped when she noticed the pain that invaded his features each time they pulled on the sleeve. If he was in such pain now, it was going to be hell when it comes to his broken shoulder.

She stared at him. "Maybe we should try some other way," she offered.

"Like what?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"Do you care about that shirt?"

He smiled "I'll leave it to your expertise."

She shot him a complicitous look. "Where do you hide the scissor?"

"Kitchen, second drawer on the left, near the juicer." he sat back, favoring his right shoulder.

"You have a juicer?" she smirked, her eyes widening.

Booth dropped his eyes on the floor "you know, fresh juice is better than the one in bottle, there's plenty of vitamins in it, and all the things..., you know..." his voice trailed off.

"I'm impressed!" she stated, her brows raised.

He looked back at her, as she left for the kitchen. "For what?" his voice a bit touchy.

She came back with the scissor in hand, "I didn't think you were the kind of people to look at his diet. Especially, after the last time."

"You know Bones, people can surprise" his eyes sparkled in a cocky way, as he tried to shoot her his charm smile. It only ended in a wince due to the shooting pain in his shoulder.

Her smile fell, when she caught the glow of pain inside his eyes.

"Let's get you off that gown," she stated, her eyes filled with concern.

Slowly, she started to cut through the scrubs, revealing his torso. A wide dressing covered half of his chest, tightening his ribs. The rest of his skin had turned into dark purple.

His gaze fell on the floor, he didn't like when she could see him weak and vulnerable. He swallowed hoping she wasn't going to feel depress. After all they've been through the last couple of days, he knew it wasn't the first time she had seen him like that. Nevertheless, that she takes care of him wasn't that bad. He could even say he liked to feel her close to him. Still, his current state made her worry about him, and probably sad. All he wanted for her were to be happy, to enjoy life, perhaps with him. Sometimes, he had to admit the idea had crossed is mind. Till now, all he had done had just contributed to drain joy from her face. The whole issue made him hate himself for what he was doing to her. He shouldn't have let her get involved. He wished he had been stronger.

"Booth?" she repeated.

His gaze was lost on the floor. He glanced in her direction, "I'm fine," he muttered, adding an unconvinced smile.

She grabbed his sweatshirt, unzipping it. She glanced at him, avoiding his gaze. She didn't want to add to his obvious discomfort. Her mind analyzed the situation. Booth couldn't be hurt due to what she said earlier, or even because he was shirtless, she had already seen his muscular chest, she thought. But why was he so uncomfortable, that couldn't be because of her own presence. Wondering, her sight fell on his bruises. Focusing on helping him to dress, she hid the sadness she felt growing inside her heart.

Finally, after lots of efforts from both of them, Booth was dressed. As he had difficulties to zip it, Brennan pressed her hands on his shaking fingers. Her head down, without a word, she zipped up his sweatshirt. Her eyes followed her fingers to the curve of his throat and finished straight to his deep brown eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, their breath lulled in the rhythm of their beating heart. Slowly, she stepped back, settling her heart to a lower pace.

"I think you should take a bag with you Booth, and some changes too. I've promised to your doctor that I wouldn't leave you until you are fully healed" She stated, taking a good look at his sweatshirt.

An old memory came before her eyes, angry barking dogs echoed in her head. Now she remembered that sweatshirt. It was the one he wore the day she almost dies, tie up to a pulley, to serve as dog foods. That very day, Booth had saved her life, shooting right into her assailant's arm despite his medical condition. She had welcomed his embrace as soon as he had pulled her off the pulley.

He gazed at her, smiling "Well, Bones, that may take some times."

She didn't answer, only her lips squeezed, hiding a smile. Her eyes glanced at her watch, 8:07am. Looking at the splint on the couch, she grabbed it and helped him to immobilize his shoulder.

Taking a more serious look, she watched him with more intensity. "Do you recall anything from the night you presumed something happened."

His smile faded on his lips. No, he thought, till then, his mind had avoided to really look at his apartment. His sight wandered in the parlor. No special memories came to his mind.

As she expected the switch of topic had brought back a sad mood on his face. She tightened her lips. They had to know if anything happened here, she thought, motivating herself.

After few minutes, Booth realized the beating of his heart had increased and pounded in his head like a giant hammer. His gaze focused on the kitchen wall.

"What happened Booth?"

He swallowed. "I just remember being there" he paused, pointing to the bottom of the wall. "It's like a dream, Bones... the priest from my dreams is there, holding some kind of knife"

All blurred before him as he remembered the priest coming closer, a small bottle in his hand. "I think, he made me drink something," he muttered.

Brennan felt a cold blade stabbing her lungs. Drink, she thought, what liquid. Her mind raced listing all the deadly elements that the man could have used to poison and which one affected their victim only after thirty six hours. She felt Booth's gaze on her.

He swallowed, knowing Brennan, she was probably calculating how long they had before his inevitable fate.

"I'm not completely sure, though..." he added. He didn't want that she starts to worry more for him again. "I mean, I'm okay Bones" as he tried to comfort her. "Either it was a real dream, or it was something to drug me" trying to sooth his words. "Either one it's no big deal... I probably dreamed all along like before, so I guess this one was just more vivid."

Booth looked at Brennan. She was still silent, her gaze lost.

"Hey, Bones!" he stepped beside her. "I assure you it was a dream, maybe we should go to the Jeffersonian. Check what Zack had found."

He grabbed her arm, leading her to the door.

With a swift move Brennan escaped easily from his grip, which was quite easy as Booth had a weakened hand. He couldn't clutch his fist without tearing apart the stitches in his palm. He swore mentally about his weakness.

"No!" yelled Brennan. "We need to know, Booth," she said, firmly, "I need to know," emphazing the words.

His brown stare darkened. He knew when she was like that he couldn't stop her.

"Where were your 'vision'?" she asked, lowering her voice. Her eyes shaded with pain.

He sighed "This wall," he said pointing in the kitchen's direction.

She went to her purse, and pulled out a short thick stick. She went to the bottom of the wall and kneeled. Turning on the stick, a blue light shone from it, as she sprayed a liquid on the wall and floor. Slowly, she swung the glowing stick from the wall to the floor, at few inches. Bright blue shining spots stained the wall and part of the floor.

She turned to Booth slowly, watching his features as they both understood the meaning of the bright blue color : blood. His blood, he corrected mentally. It hadn't been a dream. His eyes met Brennan's blue stare before loosing her in another vision. He felt the cold blade on his skin, the kicks striking his side, and him choking each time he tried to free himself. The worst for him, was to remember the feeling of hopelessness that tore his soul at the time.

She caught the hopelessness that crossed his eyes.

"Do you remember anything else?" her voice low stayed in her throat.

"Nothing important" he whispered, his eyes dropped on the floor, "I should get my bag ready," he headed to his bedroom. She didn't need to know that kind of details, he thought.

Brennan watched him, his shoulders had dropped, like he wore the world on them. He was hiding something again. She sighed. But why? Details could be important, he knew that, so why? The thing that scared her most was the hopelessness she had seen. It was like he had given up, but it was impossible that was not Booth, she thought. Still he wasn't in the best state of mind, that could explain a lot of things. She sighed. She really hated psychology.

Quickly, he put different shirts, sweaters and paints in a brown bag with his good hand and added few pairs of colorful socks. He wanted to leave as fast as he could as the memories of his assault flooded his mind. He couldn't be driven by his fear, not now that he remembered all. He grabbed the bag and walked to the door. Damn, an image flashed before his mind, the mark in his side burnt like hell. He recalled the pain, the anger that invaded his mind. He let the bag dropped on the floor in a small bump sound.

He breathed heavily, 'no', his voice yelled inside his mind. He wasn't going to let that bastard win. 'Focus Seel', he concentrated on his breathing. 'Breath in, breath out' he repeated. After a minute, he felt the chaos in his mind fading away.

Composing a relaxed face, he grabbed the bag on the floor and stepped in the parlor.

Brennan was concentrated on the kitchen wall, like answers were written on it. He came close to her. Suddenly, his cell phone rang, waking her from her thoughts.

"Booth", he said, holding his phone with his left hand. He nodded, watching Brennan. "Okay, good job Sawyer. We'll be there in fifteen minutes, keep him warm for us, would you? Right, bye" his gaze dropped to Brennan. "Are you ready to leave?"

"What ? Now, but Booth I have to take samples to be sure it was blood, and give it to Cam, like that she would be able to tell us if it's a match with you, I can't leave" she stated, her hands on her hips.

"Why, it's just samples, don't you have it already" he asked, pointing to the tubes she was holding in her left hand.

"I have some, but we need to cover everything in your parlor, it's a crime scene Booth, you know it."

He sighed heavily, "that doesn't mean you can't let Hodgins or Zack do it while we will question a suspect."

"I'll prefer to do it myself, it's better for... What" she stopped, as his words sunk in her mind. "You have a suspect?"

"Yes, Bones, we have one," he grinned. "So, you're coming?" he stepped to the door.

"But... I mean, we should... Booth it's important to learn what happened to you."

He looked deeply in her eyes, "I trust the squints will do almost as good as you would".

She stayed quite.

"I mean, you trained Zack, you trust them right?" he asked.

"I..." she begun, worries in her eyes.

"I know Bones" interrupted Booth, "Not being there, doesn't mean you don't care" he pondered his words, "I'm touched you care that much for me."

She curved her lips, "I'm just doing as much as you would have done, I mean that's what's partners do, right?"

He bumped lightly in her shoulder as she passed by his left side. "Indeed Bones, that's what partners are for" he added, his eyes smiling to her.

ooooooo

"I'm not what you think" shouted the man in front of Booth. It was the same small man that he met in the alley. Although, his eyes were closer than the first time, noticed Booth, that was probably due to the lack of light in the alley. The man was sitting curled on himself, his hands squeezed between his legs, in a prostrate way.

Booth stared at the small man.

"Yeah? What am I thinking, pal? Tell me?"

He sat in the table facing the small man. This way he rested his bad arm on his lap.

"You think, I was there for drug, but that's not true. I'm a good worker, I'll never do anything against the law" stated the small man with anger.

Booth shot him a dark look, "Sure, being in a dark alley, with a skinned leg has everything to do with legal trade, right?" stated Booth, mocking.

"What" threw the man, a puzzled look drew on his face.

Slowly, Booth turned around the table, watching the guy with darting eyes. Without a word, he opened the file in front of him, and tossed pictures of the skinned leg in front of the man.

"That leg, pal" he said, yelling at the man. "The same leg you had in your package,... The leg you almost thrown at me, don't you remember?" he yelled, snapping the picture with his finger, as the man's sight was driven to the pictures.

"I..." tried the small man, the words choked in his throat. His hands shook as his fingers approached the pictures.

"C'mon, give me a good excuse for that. Were you there to deal that skinned bloody leg?"

"No, no way, I..." the man's eyes locked into Booth's, swallowing. "I have nothing to do with this. I was just meant to meet somebody. It was an easy job, easy cash made!"

His eyes fell on the plastic floor of the interrogation room. "All I had to do was meet a guy, and act like he was robbing me. That's all," he let his eyes fall on the pictures, "I didn't know this would be so much trouble, that it was so nasty..."

Silence filled the room. Booth stared at the man, his brown eyes cold when he talked. "How much?"

"Just a couple of box?" whined the small man, his sight avoiding Booth's stare.

Booth sneered, "I'm sure the judge would be glad to know, you traded a human leg only for a couple of box."

"But I didn't know what was inside," pleaded the man.

"Yep, we've already cleared the point you weren't that smart to ask what was inside, pal, or ain't you?" said Booth smiling evilly.

The man shuddered. "You can't protect me from them!" mumbled the man.

"We're the FBI, we are the good guys. If you can give me the information I want, we will assure your protection" affirmed Booth.

"Protection..." snarled the man "Can you protect me against spirit or ghost?", his voice had raised.

The words stroke Booth straight in the face.

"No you can't" whispered the small man, fear in his eyes. "You'd better drop everything you know. You don't want his guys after you. Though..."

"Though, what?" asked nervously Booth.

The lips of the man squeezed, he sighed "All I know is that you were supposed to touch that thing," threw the man, with a disgusting look on his face. "I don't know why! And I don't want to know! I just want to get the hell of this city!"

Booth watched deeply in the man's eyes, seeking for a lie. Mostly, like a reflex, he glanced at the mirror of the interrogation room, his face concerned.

Brennan was just behind. He had asked her to stay and listen, so now he guessed, she knew too.

* * *

A bit cliffie, I know, sorry. Well not really, LOL.

So, if you liked that chapter please let me know, R&R, I have a couple of idea for the next part...  
More things would be revealed as the story goes on... and the voodoo thing is still lurking to strike at Booth and Brennan...


	10. Trust me

**Author's note: sorry** for the delay, I had a lot going on (I'm just back, still have the train's window in my mind, gosh!), and I don't think the rhythm is gonna change till the end of April.

For all my reviewers, thank you very much, it really helps to go on, and as for everyone who reads and click to see my work, let me tell you how happy I am to see that number raising each time I update. Gee!!

I hope everyone has corrected my misspelling of splinter into splint (last chapter), sorry for that, and thanks to Mendenbar to help me getting things straight.

**Disclaimer:** As always, I don't own anything about Bones and its characters...

**About the story:** Keep in mind, that Booth and Brennan are quite tired, especially Booth, but as they are partners at different levels, they stand and fall together... That 's either real friendship or true love...

* * *

She hadn't missed one word of the dialog. By the look in his eyes, she knew the interrogation was over, Booth had got everything he wanted. Her eyes followed the small man as two FBI guys were dragging him away. 

Booth sat heavily on the table, his shoulders dropped. His eyes lost in a place she couldn't imagine. Most of the time, Booth was a mystery for her. She had tried to analyze his method to discern lies in people's body and had failed miserably. Sometimes she would have given a lot to be in Booth's head and understand how he did it. Somehow, it would have help her to understand him. Although, even behind that mirror she could sense the exhaustion that seized him. The way his chest bent and how he favored his right side was an indication the pain was back in his shoulder. Probably, a hard one, as he had turned his back to the mirror, blocking the view, preventing Brennan to see his face. It was another way to keep her out of his pain. In this moments all she desired were to be close enough to help him. Yet, all he seemed to do was to keep her away. She tightened her lips.

The words of the small man echoed in her mind. Why did he have to touch the leg? Why Booth? She wondered. Was it that they spread some kind of chemical on it . If it was the case they would have known by now. Perhaps not, her thoughts mixed, there was too many coincidences, would say Booth.

She glanced at the folder she was holding. She had it since the hospital and had been too busy to really look at it. She should go to see him, but something in the back of her mind kept her to do it. Maybe, it was to give him some time alone, or maybe it was because he hadn't wanted her in the interrogation room. In a way she was mad at him, after all she had always come with him. Why not this time? He was the one who dragged her from his home where she could supervise the search for evidences. Sometimes he really annoyed her.

Her eyes fell on Zack's report, she had unconsciously opened. Mechanically, she went over the words and schematics. One in particular got her attention, she found it familiar. Her eyes widened and a deep line appeared as she frowned. She closed the folder, crushing the pages inside and headed to the exit.

First, he believed he was going to see a worried Brennan rushing in the interrogation room questions all over her mouth. That's why he had prepared his speech. After all, he wasn't waiting for this kind of answer either. But then, after several minutes a wave of sadness twisted his stomach as Booth realized she wasn't coming.

He didn't know where it came from, but an odd feeling of being lonely overwhelmed him. It was probably a result of his lack of sleep, he assumed.

Suddenly, the door slammed opened. An angry Brennan stepped inside, her eyes darting fire arrows. Somehow, she managed to sooth her stare as her eyes fell on his pale and tired features. She closed the door behind her, squeezing her grip.

Her first thought, was that he looked more tired than this morning, like something was bothering his mind. Of course, you, idiot, cursed Brennan, he has already all the pieces in hand, that's not your case.

"When were you going to tell me?" she scolded, her voice bickering.

Booth sighed. Here we go again, he thought, what did I do?

"I didn't know, Bones. Why do you always have to be suspicious with me? I honestly have no idea I was meant to touch that...leg." his voice paused at the memory of his hands holding the leg wrapped. He remembered the blood staining his hands.

She sighed heavily, "I was referring to the mark on your side," she said, her hand pointed to his left side.

"So that's why you're mad at me?" he yelled, confused. "I didn't want you to worry, that's all..." his voice dropped.

"No! I mean... it's the same design that Zack found carved on the dismembered man. And you haven't said a word about it!" she exploded.

"What?" he let out, puzzled. "That's not..." his voice trailed off, as he realized the implications. He frowned "Jesus, Bones... I hadn't that mark at the time Zack showed us his discovery," he paused, thinking, "besides the pattern was too blurred to see anything in it. C'mon, why would I have kept that a secret anyway?" he tried to shoot her his charming smile. Though, it turned into a faint curved of his lips as the pain in his shoulder had just leveled. He took a deep breath, trying to reduce the pain.

Her cristal blue eyes stared at him. She had to agree he had a point.

"I have to see the mark," she uttered.

"Now Bones, why don't you come and do it yourself as I could hide other things to you, like that you'll be sure," he snapped, really tired of arguing . His shoulder was shooting a hell of the pain, his suspect was scared to death by probably the same guy that messed with his life, and now his partner, his friend wanted explanations about a mark he'd just happened to remember this morning, the hell, he cursed. Why can't they leave him alone?

She bit her lips. Okay, so now he's pissed off, she thought, but she had to see the mark. Focusing on her task, she walked to him. Her fingers shaking a bit, went for the zipper of his sweatshirt. As she got a grip on it, Booth's warm hand covered hers, immobilizing them. His deep brown gaze stared at her.

"Trust me, Temperance" he whispered in a hard breath, his eyes shaded by sadness and pain, pleading for her understanding.

Then slowly, he withdrew his hand. Brennan felt the cold on the back of her hand as his hand had left.

"I do trust you, Booth," she muttered. "I just have to compare your mark with the one Zack gave me," she said, her voice a bit too cold as she intended to.

Zipping down his sweatshirt, she revealed the dressing underneath. She turned on the flashlight she had grabbed in her purse, and lighted his left side. Slowly, she lifted the bandage covering the mark. He shivered as her fingers touched his skin. His warm breath raised, blowing in her neck, it was disturbing, she thought, that with just a breath he troubled her so much. Gathering her ideas, she focused on the symbol carved by the burn. It had started to turn into a light brown burn.

With her fingers, she poked gently the scorch, following the drawing. Booth started when the pain from the touch raised in his side.

"It's okay," he whispered, "just the cold from your fingers."

His eyes were painfully seeking some kind of positive attitude toward him. She sighed, not wanting to give so easily. Removing her hand, she drew the pictures from the folder and stared at it, comparing the both.

"I think it's the same mark," she pushed further, her voice a little bitter "When? " she asked.

"Two nights ago..." his throat tightened, frowning "I think ." How could he be sure as his memory played tricks on him .

" Did you..." the words struggled to exit from her throat "... recall it this morning?"

His eyes dropped on the dark floor, avoiding her stare.

"In the bedroom, when I got my bag... It just came back to me as a flash... " He waited for her to explode again. But she stayed silent, watching him. " I didn't think it was important at the time... And you had enough in mind"

His last words echoed in her mind. Even if his life is at stakes, he will not tell me the whole truth, she thought. She could continue to reproach him his behavior or just move on. But against a stubborn man like Booth, and taking his current state, maybe she should give up and try later. She opted for the last choice, for now she added mentally.

"You said, you didn't know about the leg. Did your dreams start at the same time ..." she enquired.

His eyes rolled, thinking "That's possible... " He hadn't really given a thought at that, "Maybe, we should go to see Zack," he continued, "he might have found other things"

She avoided his gaze,"Yes, we should," she couldn't make it why he always tried to protect her, that really annoyed her as it kept her out of his life.

"I have to check one thing in my office, and I'll be right back" he zipped up his sweatshirt, holding close his right arm, preventing it to move too fast and send shooting pain through his shoulder.

She didn't answer, playing the busy anthropologist with her folder.

He strolled to the door, without looking at her, and shut the door behind him.

She sighed heavily as she stayed alone in the room. Drawing her phone from her pocket, she dialed a well known number in the Jeffersonian.

"Sweetie, is that you?" said a high-pitched voice.

"Yes Ange " Brennan's voice was low and uncertain.

" Is everything okay? Booth?" asked Angela, her voice turned in worry.

"No, he's fine, I think. I'd like you to... " she began.

" How's that? You think!" cut Angela.

"Well, he's not really talking since this morning" admitted Brennan. "And we've kind of argued. I don't know what to do with him. "

"Sweetie, the man you are talking about is hurt, and as you said it before, severely exhausted... Don't ask him to behave like if it was a normal day cause it's not. "

"I know, but he always hides things from me, Ange! How can I help him in this situation "

"Now, c'mon Bren, you know Booth . I'm sure he didn't do it in purpose, "

"He said he only remembered it this morning, but..."she paused, uncertain.

"But what, you think he's lying to you. Okay, let's just assume he did it, why would he do that Bren? I mean, he's the one hurt and beat. There's no reason for him to hide things, unless he thinks it might hurt you. Really, you can't be angry for that?" stated her friend, like it was not a revelation.

A long silence followed her words.

"Bren, you're still there?" asked Angela.

"Yes." Brennan was thinking. Her hands went on the picture of the symbol she had left on the table. Yes, she thought, he was hurt and all she did was yelling at him and asked him to justify his behavior. She should have remembered that even if it was Booth, he too could have weakness. But he appeared so strong so tough, she got used to think that noting could break him.

She took a deep breath. "Angela, I need you to ask Cam to run some tests on the fabric that wrapped the leg Booth found. "

"What do you think she should look for "

"Anything from chemical residue to any kind of alkaloid ... "

"Do you mean poison?" Angela's voice raised one octave.

"I'm not sure, yet. Did Hodgins check the dummy yet? "

"I don't think so. He's still on the clothes from your headless man." Angela paused, "You know honey, you should let us handle that case, meanwhile you take Booth somewhere to rest, says like your apartment..."

Brennan could almost see her friends grinning on the other side of the phone.

"No, we will head to the Jeffersonian as soon as Booth returned from his office. And, ..." her throat tightened, "Ange, the case might be related to Booth, that's why we have to come. "

"Oh my god, when you said 'alkaloid', do you think he might have been in contact with some kind of poison, that's why he got all that weirdo behavior?"

Brennan sighed, "I don't know Ange, that's why we should check for it." her eyes wandered in the interrogation room, longing on the corner of the table he sat few minutes ago.

"Okay, Bren, I'll tell Cam and the guys to look for chemical residue, and I'll go to see what I can do for the dummy, I think Zack had let that scarecrow somewhere in his lab. Is there anything else I can do? " "Yes, tell them thanks for me "

"Hey Bren, I really think you should take Booth go rest, we'll manage here. So, go easy on him, okay, even if you're right, that's not a common situation. Remember how he had been with you when you investigated on your mother's death..."

The memory brought Brennan back to the moment she had discovered her mother in the angelator. Booth hadn't talked much, she hadn't to explain herself why she wasn't going in court that day. He had just canceled her appointment before she had time to ask. "Yes, you're right..." she realized.

Angela grinned "of course I am, but don't be hard on yourself, you too are not at your best, okay..."

Brennan hung up, her eyes wandering in the room, as the words she told him echoed in her head. "I just wanted to help you", she whispered more for herself.

ooooooo

Sitting heavily in his armchair behind his desk, Booth stared at the pile of paper in front of him. Lots of folders were mostly, files closed that he had to review before sending it to the archive. But some, were new cases needing his full attention. He sighed as he took one on top of the pile, and winced. His left shoulder was still hurting a bit, even if it was nothing compare to the right one, it still annoyed him to feel so weak.

He opened the folder and went to the report quickly. Another case of murder probably, he sighed heavily. The world wasn't turning right. He closed the brown folder and looked at the post-it Marty had left on his desk. On four of them he could read, 'call Cullen right away!'. Once more, Booth felt really tired. How was he going to explain to his boss what happened to him . He couldn't tell him about the dreams, as his boss would think he was out to lunch, then he would find himself in a padded cell in no time to say nutball.

He ran his fingers among the other messages. The rest was about the new files on his desk. He leant back deeply in his armchair, leaning his right arm against his side, and closed his eyes. He had so many things to do, and just didn't know by what he should start. Bones had doubts about him, he could bet his paycheck on it, and he didn't know how to make things right other than asking her to trust him. Damn, he was so exhausted, and so lost, that he felt his eyes going wet. He tightened his eyelids closed. A pounding headache blasted in his head. No, he swore to himself, 'I'm not gonna lose it here and now'. He rubbed his face with a shaking hand.

Opening his eyes, his sight stopped on Parker's picture, his gaze lost in his son's smile. Slowly, he stood from his armchair and headed to the exit, his sight lost on the floor.

Few minutes later, he was almost at the interrogation room, when he bumped into a man. The collision made his shoulder screamed in agony. As he raised his sight filled with pain, he discovered the angry face of his boss staring at him.

Cullen's anger disappeared as soon as he noticed it was Booth standing in front of him. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt he had mistakenly taken him for a stranger. What disturbed him the most, was his agent stance. His right arm was cuddled by a splint, and his face was whiter than the last time. And Cullen had really thought it was impossible to be paler than the last time he had seen Booth, besides being dead of course.

"What happened to you agent Booth?" he stated, anger replaced by worry.

"I... Kind of fall on the wrong guys yesterday" said Booth, hoping his boss would buy it and didn't press him to know more.

"I see. You should have called us and report that thing to me" said Cullen, pointing to his right shoulder. His gaze stopped on Brennan who had exited from the interrogation room and was now heading to stand beside Booth.

"I know sir, I've been too busy, and I really forgot about it, sorry sir" Booth explained.

So many sirs in one sentence, boy, the man was really going through the mill, thought Cullen. "Busy" he exclaimed.

He stared at the eyes of the agent in front of him. He knew when someone was about to yield and deep inside it scared him to see the same lifeless look in Booth's eyes, "I don't want to see you around until the doc says you're fitted to work agent Booth! Did I make myself clear?"

Booth's eyes blinked at Cullen's words. "I... Yes sir. You've been cristal clear."

"You" threw Cullen, his eyes stopping on Brennan "Take him home!" from the look she gave him, Cullen would have sworn she was grateful he had asked her that. Though he discerned some exhaustion in her eyes too. God, he thought, these kids are too closed to even think to rest when one of them is hurt.

Brennan watched Booth's back arched lightly as his boss asked her to take him home. She cursed herself to be so angry after him. He needed her, and not to fight her. She nodded to Cullen, of course she would take care of him. She followed him as he passed beside her and left them alone in the corridor.

Booth dropped his shoulder. It was hard to have Brennan beside him and not looking at her. But deep inside, it would hurt him more to see she was still angry after him. He chose to head to the elevator and let her decide if he was worth to follow.

She walked behind him without a word. As they entered, he dared a quick glance in her direction, but she wasn't really facing him, and he was unable to have a hint on what she was thinking.

When the door opened, she exited first "my car," she stated. It was awkward to apologize like that for her, she hadn't never been that kind of girl that go to run into her mother's skirts when she had done wrong. Though, Booth was always the one to give her a hint on how to start.

Uncertain of how to behave with her, he followed her to her car and stopped at the passenger's door. She hadn't looked at him once. His petty hopes were just melting like snow under the sun with each second. Truly, he didn't know if he could go on without her beside him. Like the melting snow, he felt his life fading away, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Clicking on the button, she opened the car, and Booth opened his side awkwardly with his left bandage hand. He winced as he had to curl on himself to reach the seat, and his legs started to shake violently. Suddenly, he felt his heart beating fast in his chest, as he felt her hand on his back guiding him to lean gently onto the passenger seat.

"Thanks" he whispered, his eyes crossed hers.

Her sight was soft and filled with compassion for her partner, "You welcome" she smiled at him. At least, she could help him, even if she hadn't apologized yet, she thought.

All his worries seemed to disappear, his Bones had forgiven him. He gave her his now usual weakened smile since the beginning of the week.

With care, she closed his door, and headed to the driver side. Booth gulped avidly, the new air that filled the car. She really hadn't a lot to do to sooth him, he thought, just that. His mind held on the thought, just that, no words. Just a sight, a move, and everything was gone. He closed his eyes, savoring the peace of mind, he had retrieved.

As Brennan turned the ignition on, Booth's phone rang.

Slowly, he pulled it from his jeans' pocket, and blinked.

"Booth"

A long silence, followed by some kind of breathing was audible.

"Who's there?" asked Booth, frowning.

He exchanged a quizzical look with Brennan.

"I thought you'd be smarter, agent Booth" sneered the well known voice of the priest.

Brennan watched his partner's face turned pale, and she hadn't thought it was still possible.

"What is it Booth?" she asked, worried.

He turned to her, fear in his eyes. He had stuck his cell phone on his left ear, speechless.

Finally, he asked, "What do you want? "

"Oh, agent Booth, always straight to the point. Fine, I want to be feared, I want to be famous, to be known as your worst nightmare, and finally I want to see you and your brainy doctor dead," he spilled coldly.

"That's not gonna happen! Never" voiced Booth.

"Oh, I'll save you a seat when she would die" growled the priest.

"I won't let you raise a hand on her" yelled Booth, all his strength gathered by his anger. His eyes shaded by darkness.

From her seat, it stunned Brennan to see the cold black hole forming in Booth's eyes. A chill ran along her back. He scared her, as his eyes lacked of all the life she used to see. It was like being sucked by a freezing and deep obscurity.

Booth glanced at Brennan and noticed her frown. Avoiding her stare, he looked outside behind the window.

"Don't worry agent Booth, you're the only one that can really hurt her, and you're going to do it for us, remember," the words penetrated his soul like a blade.

"I swear if I find you, you're a dead man," screamed Booth, loosing the rest of the control he had.

The man smirked evilly, "Well, I've been there already agent Booth," he stated laughing. Then, he hung up, leaving the line dead to keep company to Booth.

Before he could look at her, Booth had to swallow, his mouth was dry, and he felt a lump in his throat.

"Booth, who did you talk to?" she asked, her hands were on the wheels. She hadn't noticed she was squeezing it, whitening her knuckles.

He turned slowly his sight on her. The darkness in his eyes replaced by fear.

"It was... the priest... The one from..." he stopped on the word, as it was too absurd to state it, even for someone like him.

She felt her heart pounding hard in her chest, "the one from your dreams," she finished.

"Yes" his eyes had returned to their usual deep brown color, but this time she discerned total fear lurking, not for him but for her.

"Why was he so scare for her?" she thought, after all, he was the one needing protection so far.

ooooooo

He hung up the phone, leaving his interlocutor wondering what was he up to. His only purpose was to keep the man tensed. It was important to keep his level of stress at maximum. His lips curled in an evil smile, the FBI guy was probably wondering his next move. Just perfect, he thought. Tease him till death, he murmured.

He glanced at his watch. He was going to call soon, he should prepare his room. Looking at the curtain, he stepped to the window, the sun was high in the sky, warming the people that went outside for a picnic. He grinned as he watched kids playing on the grass. Two of them were around ten. They looked at each other, grinning as they fought each other with two giant robots.

The priest smiled at the scene. Now, it was his turn to play with his toys.

The phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yes", he started.

"Is everything ready?" asked the voice on the phone.

"Yes, master, our prey as entered the game as planned. She has no clue of what she's really dealing with, even her dumbass bodyguard has failed to keep her away."

He was pleased to hear the voice smiling on the other side, "I guess, you are going to start the real game soon then" stated the master.

"Yes master as soon as the power will rise"

"I'm eager to see her falling apart" the master giggled. "She has to suffer as much as I did. I want her to feel her loss, knowing she can't turn back time. Do you understand ! "

"It will be fulfilled as your wish," said respectfully the priest.

" Good, after that she'll go crazy" said the master, smiling. "Then, I will toy with her for the rest of her short life"

* * *

So, tell me what you think, you know it's important for me to have your point of view. 

Just go, read and review...:)


	11. Heart and Poker

**Author's note:** as I promised, here it's another chapter this week. Thanks again to all my reviewers and readers. Enjoy...

**Disclaimer:**as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

They entered Brennan's apartment without a word. Since the call, Booth had been too quiet for her. As she put his bag in the guest room, he sat heavily in the couch holding his right arm with the other hand. His face showed concerns as he gazed at her back. It was time, he thought. 

"Bones" he called from the parlor.

She startled him as she rushed in the room few seconds after his call.

"Do you feel sleepy," she asked, her face worried.

He shot her a weak smile, she had rushed for him, he realized. A warm feeling wrapped his soul soothing his thoughts.

"No" he gazed at her blue cristal eyes, he could drown in those eyes. "Have a seat" he said, patting the couch beside him, "We have to talk..." he paused, watching her as she walked toward him.

"If it's about this morning, I'm sorry" she started.

"You were right" he interrupted her.

Stunned by his words, she sat next to him. "Did he say what kind of poison it was?" she asked promptly, "I'm sure there's a cure... We'll find one Booth, you won't die, I promise, we will..." she was talking quickly, not taking the time to breathe.

He put his left hand other hers, "Slow down, Bones. I'm fine. Why did you come to this conclusion, anyway?" he said, locking his deep brown eyes in hers, "Besides, it's not about that."

She closed her mouth, she was so scared to lose him, she thought. Tears threatened to drip from her eyes, "I assumed..." she said, her throat tightened.

"I know, I'm sorry" he squeezed her hands. "It's just that I think you deserve to know "

"To know what, Booth?" now she started to get really scared again.

"I think you should leave me," he paused, leaving her the time to cope with his demand. "I might be a threat to you, Bones, and I don't want to," now, his eyes too were getting wet.

"It would be better, if you drop me in my apartment... "

"I'm not leaving you," she stated, matter of fact. "And there's no arguing about that," she crossed her arms. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

He stared at her, his jaws tightened "you are the most stubborn woman I ever met, damn it! "

"Thank you," she smirked "I guess, we're both alike"

He stood, furious, "Can't you listen to me for once in your life Temperance! It's serious, I believe this guy wants to kill you, and I can't let it happen!" he said, his voice raising. His hand flew in the air with a wide move.

"So, you can't protect me if I'm far from you, right?" she replied.

" That's not what I meant, and you know damn it too well! " he exploded.

" But that's what you said" she shot back.

" Jeeze, Bones. Please, listen to me."

"You want to protect me, fine, that's your choice. Mine is I don't leave you, period. I think it's pretty fair this way," she shot him a complicit smile "Deal with it Booth, you're stuck with me, I'm your partner remember!"

He looked at her. How could he reproach her to do the same thing he was trying to do. His anger faded, turning into a faint smile .

"I guess you won that one," he said, giving up.

He sat back next to her. His hand rubbed his neck. "There's more," he added, looking at his shoes.

Brennan watched him silently, waiting for him to resume.

"I..." the word didn't want to go out of his throat, "... He said, I would be the one to hurt you. That's why I believe you should leave me" his breath increased.

She grabbed his hand, wrapping it in her warm fingers, "I told you yesterday, Booth. I know you won't. I... feel safe when you're around," It was hard for her to admit that she might need him, but right now she felt he needed to hear it more than her to keep her pride.

"Temperance, I might be losing it... I don't want... "

"I know, it's okay Booth," she squeezed his hand lightly, not wanting to wake his wound. "You always told me that we are stronger when we gather our strength. I guess it's time we face it together."

He couldn't believe what she'd just told him. She was using his own words to comfort him.

"Thanks" his brown chocolate eyes locked into hers. "It means a lot to me. But you don't know what you're facing."

Her face went serious, "It's dreams Booth, there must be a logical explanation we haven't found yet, that's all."

"There's no explanation for things that aren't natural, Bones, " he paused feeling uneasy, "I know you don't believe in these... things, but... I saw that swamp before we went there. The scarecrow too."

"The scarecrow, you mean the dummy?"

"Yeah, the dummy. I think he did something to me with it" his sight wandered in the room. "It was kind of scary, I had no control on myself," he felt a chill ran through his back.

She sighed, nervous, "I asked Angela to check the dummy this morning, I found there were too many things we still didn't know. She'll call when they will find something," she paused looking like she had more to say, "she will ask to Hodgins and Cam to check for chemical residues on the leg and the fabric you found" she watched as the information sunk in his mind. "Your dreams could be explained if he left some kind of poison on it to interact with your brain, maybe everything happened in your mind... "

"Yeah, thanks," his voice a bit harsh, "And what do you do with the call I received in the car. Huu, it was the same voice in my dreams. How could it be, Bones?" it was too crazy to explain with fact, he felt it in his gut, there was something behind all of this, something unnatural, something evil ready to jump on them, ready for the kill.

"You might have known his voice somewhere, and your brain triggered it in your dreams to make you realize something."

"Okay, why not!", his stare was intense, "But how do you explain the blood on my wall, the mark he left me, the call and beside all, the wounds I got each time I sleep. I haven't done that to myself. I'm not crazy, Bones."

"I know" she repeated, "I just think there's got to be a good explanation for all without going into the supernatural thing," she laid a hand on his left arm.

He breathed heavily, as he noticed worries on her face, "I'm sorry" he said "I'm just so tired Bones" his head rested backwards.

She leant against him. "You can lean on me Booth, I won't break."

For a second, he thought he should stand and go to find the man that pay for him to find that leg. But he felt too exhausted to make a move, and they had no clue by what to start. Without really thinking, his head slid to Brennan's shoulder, his eyes shut.

"It's okay Booth, I'll wake you if you sleep." she murmured as she leant her temple against his dark hair. She felt his breathing steadying slowly. Heat poured from his body, he was burning, she observed. No wonder he was exhausted, if his fever was back, it means they hadn't much time. She wrapped her hands around his bandage hand. She didn't want to lose him again. Now that he was beside her, she would hold him, no matter what.

**  
**

ooooooo

Angela Montenegro was a nice woman for her friends. But for some people that really pissed her off, she was a real mayhem. Right now, Zack thought her friend was more falling in the second category.

Since she had Brennan on the phone, she hadn't stopped yelling at him, urging him to bring her the dummy Booth and Brennan had found in the swamp. He didn't know why it was so important to check the dummy right now, as he still hadn't finished his exam of the bones. Of course she had tried to give him a good reason, but all he had been able to make it out from her shouting and exuberating moves was that it could be important for Booth.

His mind had tried to understand how it could be so important for the FBI agent as he had been dismissed by his boss, judged unfit for his work due to his pathological condition.

He sighed, he would not understand them, definitely not. He grabbed the box, where he and Hodgins had left the dummy and put it on the clean steel table.

"That's it!" shouted Angela, "Everything is in this little box," she stared at it. The box was three feet long and two wide.

"Everything. As it is a human size dummy we rolled it inside"

"You rolled it!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "You know we're talking about a dummy. Why on earth did you rolled it like a spring roll?"

"Like that, it fitted the box more easily without crushing anything" declared Zack.

Her eyes rolled inside, "It's a dummy, for god's sake, you can't crush anything in it, as there's no bones!"

"I was aware of that fact" stated Zack. "it just seemed more practical," he said.

She raised her eyebrows, grinning, "one day, we will have to talk about the difference between reality and this lab!"

She took the box and left Zack hanging to her words, his eyebrows curved in a frown.

Heading to her office, she peeked a sight of her future husband on the platform squinting at his computer. She smiled, she loved seeing him so absorb by his work, and that make her loving him even more. If it was possible, she thought.

Cam and Hodgins had begun different tests on the wrapper, and some on the leg, the skin, blood, whatever they needed, she remembered, as she had told them about the possibility of Booth being poisoned.

As they were too busy, she had decided to check that dummy by herself, hoping she would find something to help her friends. She laid the box on a shining steel table, near her computer and grabbed a pair of gloves. Sliding her hand in it with a ' shlunk', she opened slowly the box and discovered the rolled dummy.

Carefully, she unfolded it on the table, laying the head at last. The dummy smelt like a wet duck, probably because he stayed in the swamp far too long, she guessed.

"Okay, mister dummy. What's your big secret?" she said talking to the dummy.

The burnt clothes that covered him sounded familiar to Angela, but she shook the idea and started to uncover it. She pulled the black suit paints and laid it flat on another table. Then she took care of the white and now dirty shirt, starting with the button.

Something caught her attention. As she opened the top of the shirt, a small piece of black paper rose from under the collar. Opening more of the shirt, she finally revealed a black square. It appeared to be some kind of photograph, she realized. Unfortunately, She couldn't see a thing on it, as the picture had been blackened by the fire. Carefully, she put the picture near the paints, and resumed to undress the dummy. After she had removed the shirt, she noticed a drawing in the center of what should be the chest for a human. It looked like a black star in a circle. She had already seen that somewhere, she thought, but where? Of course she knew where, at Jack's place, among different books.

Quickly, she grabbed her sketchbook, and started to draw the symbol. When she was done, she headed to the platform, with the thought that she was on something. At the bottom of the stairs, she slid her card in the slot, and stepped near the guard.

"Jack?" she called out.

Hodgins was squinting at a microscope, " Yes baby?" he replied keeping his eyes stuck to the microscope.

"I found this mark on the dummy, and I assumed you were the most qualified expert to explain its meaning, see" she said, showing the drawing, "it looks like all supernaturals to me."

He turned to her, smiling, "You know you don't have to compliment me to... Woo..." His eyes widened, "It is supernatural," he said emphasizing his words, "Where exactly did you find this?"

"It was painted on the dummy chest, it's kinda weird though"

"You have no idea!" he marveled at the drawing, "this symbol has been used in witchcraft for centuries"

"Witchcraft" repeated Angela, "same witchcraft as in 'the Blair witch project '" she uttered, her thoughts lost.

"Yes, what are you thinking Angela?" asked Hodgins, frowning.

" Huh, something Brennan said earlier about Booth being linked to the case..." she paused, as her thoughts wandered. "Do you think he might have been cursed or something like that"

"What? I mean, I'm not sure where you're going, it's a big leap, and so far we have... "

"nothing", cut Angela, " so far we have nothing right?" she stated.

"I have... Yes" he admitted, his shoulders dropping. "I got nothing!" he added, exasperated. He turned to his computer, "I haven't found any trace of poison of any kind. I've checked for everything, even pesticide!"

She looked at him, he seemed so desperate. She pressed a hand on his shoulder "Maybe there's nothing to find Jack. I know you did your best, Brennan knows that, and I'm sure Booth feels the same way. But we have to check every option." she paused, drowning in his blue ocean eyes. "I have someone to call, maybe you can look at the other thing I found." she said, smiling to Hodgins.

"Okay, let's go then!"

He followed her as she headed to her office.

"I think it's got to be a photograph, but it's too burnt to see anything."

"Okay, I'll take care of it," he put the blackened photo on a steel tray and headed to his lab with it, "Love you, Ange," he threw as he exited her lab.

She caught a glimpse of his back, her smile spread to her ears.

ooooooo

Four hours twenty four minutes checked Brennan on her watch. She was pacing silently her kitchen, waiting for another jar to be ready. She glanced in the parlor where Booth was trying to organize his cards with one and 'half' hand His eyes blinked in repeated motion. Three times he had begun to doze off. Twice, she feared she wasn't going to wake him up, as he had fallen in a deep slumber. It was the third pot of coffee she was making, and honestly she started to think it didn't really help him. The coffee was just increasing his dopamine level, bringing him on the edge, though he would still need to sleep.

The humming of the coffee machine pulled her from her thoughts. She stepped to the island, and took the full jar of coffee, and put it on a tray, again, she told to herself.

How long would it takes for him to fall asleep again? Would she be able to wake him this time, and what if he wasn't waking up? Her mind started to count all the possibilities. And if he did, how long would they be able to go on like this? She felt her arms weakening at the idea of losing him again. She breathed heavily, trying to clear her mind. Her chin leant to her chest, making her hair to slide along her cheeks. Her hands were resting on the corner of the island, shaking. She had to be strong, for Booth, she repeated to herself. Pushing on her hands, she stood unmoving in front of the coffee pot. She stared at it for a moment, then she walked to the closet on her right, and opened it. She gazed at the box inside for a minute and finally decided to grab a couple of them. She slowly put her content on the tray and brought the whole into the parlor.

Booth shot her a look of astonishment, as she laid the tray on the small table in front of the couch, putting aside her cards.

"We haven't had a lunch, and I believe maybe, you could use something sweet, so I thought of those that were in my closet. I don't really recall since when I have them," she pointed to the colorful boxes. "So they might be a bit old."

"Bones, that's, well thank you. Is it what I think it is?" he said, a bit tired.

"Well if you think, those are chocolates, cookies and candies, then you're right!" she stated innocently, as she sat beside him.

"Did you look at my cards?" she asked, frowning.

"Nope. You know me Bones. Why would I do that?" he plunged his hand in one of the boxes, and pulled out a handful of chocolate chip cookies. His eyes sparkled with the little flame she liked to see.

Maybe he still had enough strength to hold until they find the truth about this, she considered. On the other hand, maybe he was just making him looking like he was okay. She wasn't like him, she really had a hard time to read people.

She dropped her eyes on her cards, "Perhaps because it's important for you to win!" she teased.

" Or maybe, because it's all the fun in it. You know Bones, no lives at stakes, just the pleasure to break the rules with no consequence." he grinned.

"There're consequences... I'll be mad at you!" she smirked.

He sighed, "just how could you be mad at me for a game. That's not real, and I know that I can beat your four queens!" he stated, enjoying the effect of his words on her.

"So you looked at my cards!" she screamed, looking offended.

"No, I guess, and you just gave me the answer."

"No, I think you counted the cards. There's no guessing in that."

"You do remember that we mixed the cards before each game, right?" he said, enjoying teasing her.

"You didn't!" she claimed. "I saw you from the kitchen, you cheated! You're a cheater Booth!"

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"Nope!"

"So, how can you know my cards?"

"Because I know you, Bones!"

"And that's supposed to mean because you know me, you know which card I have!"

"Yep!"

"That's impossible!"

"Tell you what Bones, when you have a good game your eyes are sparkling with this little smile of yours. Since I have already the kings and one ace, I bet you had the queen. Besides you never so sure till you have five in a row, or four of the same. So, I guessed you had the queens." he stated proudly.

She stared at him, stunned by his logical deduction coming from a gut feeling "Okay, I give up" she threw her cards on the table.

As Booth did the same, she reached for his cards. But his hand stopped her.

"Hey, now you're the one cheating. You can't see my cards," he whistled, playing the offended.

She looked puzzled "Why, the game is over, isn't it?"

"Because Bones, everything in the poker rest on bluff and believers, so you can't see my cards." he mixed the cards on the table, grinning. "Now, it's your turn to deal the cards. She frowned, as she gathered the cards. She wasn't used to lose so easily.

Booth watched her face, as she gave the cards. Her forehead was tensed as she focused on the cards, probably counting all the possibilities. At least this game made her forget his state, he sighed. He knew she was worried about him. He didn't want her to feel sad and being in pain because of him, and bluffing, cheating was the only way he had come up to keep her mind focus on this trivial thing rather than him. She smiled as she organized her cards.

"You don't want to play? Afraid I'm going to beat you," she said calmly, pointing to the little pile of cards in front of him.

A weak smile crossed his face, that's my girl, he thought.

"Me, afraid of you. You didn't win a game since we started!"

"That's because you've been cheating! I'm going to report you!" she threatened, smiling.

He really enjoyed their bickering. Somehow, it helped him to stay awake, as he could feel his mind slowly slipping. He knew, no matter how much coffee he would drink, his strength would leave him. Like now, with his eyelids getting heavier with each minute. He reached for his cup of coffee, hoping the warm liquid would delay the dreadful moment, as he sipped it.

ooooooo

This call should have help her to feel better, and yet she was more scared than ever. She stared at the dummy's clothes she had laid on the steel table. Black paints, white shirt, something was missing, she could feel it. Angela decided to check on Hodgins. Her call had taken longer than what she expected, but at least she had a name, and an address, she told to herself, as she entered Hodgins' lab.

"Hey, Jack. Did you find anything?"

"Not yet, I was about to try to reveal the last pigmentation, like that we will see what was on the picture. Okay, it would just be an ersatz, but if it works, we should see something appearing, now" he commented, as he poured a liquid over the picture laid in a dish.

"You see, the photo is only partially burnt, if I can dissolve only what cover the photo, the protection, I might erase only the black ashes."

He stared at the photo, floating in the transparent liquid. Little by little, black tiny particles started to detach from the picture. After five minutes the liquid had turned to a black pool.

"Okay, that's the moment of truth" said Hodgins, his eyes almost too serious for Angela.

With a jaw, he pulled the photo out of the black liquid and laid it softly on a tray. Grabbing a plastic bottle with a tube on it, he spread the liquid on the picture.

"It's just water," he told Angela "That will wash the photo and let us see what's under..." his voice trailed off, as the black dots were washed away, revealing Booth's face.

Angela gripped his arm. "Oh god, Jack!" she voiced. "It's Booth!"

The photo was half burnt, but even with half of the face she would have recognized his features anywhere. It was Booth, she would have sworn it.

"This is really bizarre!" she stated, confused.

ooooooo

Once more, Brennan frowned and laid her cards face down on the table. She looked at the pile of cookies and candies in front of Booth. Every time he bet, he won. How could he do that? She was unable to see when he was bluffing and when he wasn't, that was really disturbing. If it had been for anyone else, she would have dropped the game a long ago, but it was Booth, and maybe she would be able to discern his pattern if she was very attentive. Yet, the cookies had a general tendency to gather around him, and flee from her. She shook the idea, how could she think of tendency for cookies, they weren't alive .

She raised her head to see him smiling weakly to her. He was getting more and more tired, she could see the exhaustion in his eyes. That tore her from the inside to be unable to do a thing. Her logical mind had already settled a plan of action when they'll get information from Angela. First, find a cure for Booth, two, find that bastard that was playing with him, and third, make sure Booth would heal properly. That were the priorities she had settled. Unconsciously, she mixed the cards and started to give it to Booth and herself.

"Don't you have enough that I kicked your ass?" teased Booth, the flame she caught in his eyes was almost extinguished.

"This time, I'm going to win! Besides I still have some cookies to bet." she smiled back, hoping it would help him feel better.

"Ho, and how do you know that you're going to win, your instinct?" he teased again.

"There's not such a thing as instinct, Booth! It's an irrational way to explain..." she started.

He raised a hand, cutting her words "Are you going to bet or what?" he challenged, hoping that would make her worries disappear.

"I am". She had three jacks and the probabilities were for her. She brought her last five cookies, followed by two chocolate bars she was keeping carefully, and put them into the pot in the middle of the table.

She tried to read his face, as he put all his cookies and candies into the pot, but she noticed he had kept one cookie on a side. His face remained deadpan. She bit her lips, if she lost now, she would have nothing to bet, and Booth would be the big winner. She revealed her cards one by one, smiling as she discovered the three jacks she had. Booth watched her attentively, he hadn't missed a bit of her face enlightening as she thought she was going to win. He loved when she was smiling so freely, without holding back her feelings. Sometimes he caressed the idea she only smiled that way when he was there, but that was silly. He sighed loudly, and dropped his cards face down, giving her a wry face. Her eyes widened as the realization sunk into her mind. She had won, she had beaten him. Finally, her logical mind had overcome the unbeatable Booth's instinct. She smiled like a kid, revealing her teeth.

"Now, you have lost Booth," she stated, almost giggling.

"Not yet Bones" he smiled showing his last cookie. "This one will be mine forever," he declared, as he wolfed down the cookie. "Now, you are the winner," he mouthed childishly.

She looked at him, stunned at his behavior, then a wide smile crossed her face, and turned into a laugh. He chuckled lightly, and started in a laugh too. Their eyes met, revealing how happy they were to share that moment and to laugh together. It was like a giant breath of oxygen giving a bit of normalcy to their dire situation after all they've been through.

"That's better, Temperance," he whispered.

"What?" she said, a bit confused by his words. She was still smiling hugely.

"Seeing you smile" he stated, "It fits so much better on you than sadness"

She was startled by his honesty.

He locked into her deep crystal eyes, "Don't let anything or anyone take it from you." He saw his words were penetrating her soul. "Smiling is a good thing, Temperance, it means you're alive."

Silence filled the room as they both looked at each other. Something like a warm undefined feeling passed through them.

"Will you remember?" he asked, as his shoulder started to hurt again.

"I will, Booth," her mind was totally submerge by his words, thinking.

He smiled widely as to try to hide a wince. " Good, that's good."

She frowned, and grabbed a little white box where his name was written on it. She took two pills from it, and put them in his hand. "You should feel better with this," she assured him, holding a glass of water she had prepared earlier.

"Thanks" he said, swallowing the pills.

"You're welcome"

Before, he could add anything, the door rang.

"I'll be right back" she said, heading to the door.

He leant his head backwards onto the couch, as he closed his eyes. He was feeling beat, and not by the game. He heard Angela's voice coming from the entry, as she was talking to Brennan.

"Booth" called Brennan's voice. By the tone, he would have bet she was worried again. But her voice was too close to come from the entry.

He opened his eyes to discover Brennan bent over him, a deep line carving her forehead. Behind her, were standing Angela and a woman he didn't recall.

"I'm fine, Bones," he muttered, only for her ears.

He knew by the look in her eyes she wasn't buying it, but she dropped the subject as they weren't alone. Angela smiled at Booth, hoping to hide how distressful she felt as she had seen him still. She hadn't seen him since he had left in a hurry with Brennan from the Jeffersonian, as she and Hodgins didn't want to bother him at the hospital. And now, she saw why Brennan was so scared. He really looked like he was going to break apart in any minute.

"So Angela, now that we are both there, can you tell us who is your friend." asked Brennan.

Angela stepped aside, to allow the little woman she had come with to stand in front of her friends.

"Booth, Bren," announced Angela "meet maman Anise."

* * *

Well, I hope you enjoyed as much as I did this chapter. Next chapter will have a lot of revelations.

For the technique used to reveal the photo, I kinda made up that part. I'm almost sure it's possible to do it, but I haven't found anything on Internet to explain it.

As always reviews are what makes my day (Aside of the writting) grin...

So, feel free to give me your comments...


	12. the root of evil

**Author's note:** Once again, sorry for the delay. As I planned last week, this week was rough, with three tests in a row. It took me all the week end to write this chapter so I hope you'll like it, and that my bad grammar would not spoil the fun.

**Disclaimer:**as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

"Guys, I know what you're going to think but maman Anise is a Hougan. It's a high voodoo priest. "

"Angela" cut Brennan "I don't see why you bring her here?" She crossed her arms in front of her, pouting.

"Bones" whispered Booth, "be nice with the lady, will you," smiling weakly.

"But Booth, this is crazy. There's no such thing as spells and magic... It's only for children, and we don't have time for this," she stated, sneering. "No offense to you" she said to maman Anise.

Angela grabbed her hands, "Sweetie, could you just listen to her. Then, if you think you're not convinced, I will accompany her to the door. But please, just listen to what she has to say, okay?" she pleaded.

"Fine" she mumbled, "Have a seat," she added, showing the armchair around the table.

The small woman walked to the armchair, smiling hugely.

This isn't natural to smile like that, observed Brennan. Booth smiled faintly at Brennan when she sat next to him. He could feel, Brennan's deception. She had hoped Angela would bring good news, instead she had brought a voodoo priest. He watched his friend taking the seat in front of him, and maman Anise sat facing Brennan. If he hadn't felt a big headache hammering in his brain, he would have enjoyed seeing Brennan arguing about voodoo and magic. He leant back to rest. He had the impression his head was going to explode, and his chest felt like it'd been crushed from the inside. The worst was that his painkiller didn't seem to work at all.

Brennan glanced at her partner, a lump in her throat. By his look, she would have sworn the pain was back and worst, but her logical mind reminded her, he had taken painkiller, still his face was slightly contorted. The facts that being incapable to help him more than just giving him his pills when he was in pain, and Angela taking their time for some magic whatever, made Brennan boiled internally.

He couldn't resist but take her hand, he needed to feel her, it was his only way to stay focus. She felt his shaking fingers slid on the back of her hand and clung to her. She squeezed back, she didn't care anymore if her friend caught that move, the most important right now, was to help her partner, to help Booth.

Not only Angela, but Maman Anise too, noticed how they were holding on to each other. The little woman smiled with assurance, revealing a white and shining mouth. She was wearing a long colorful dress with a ribbon in her hair matching with her dark tanned face, where Brennan could see tiny animals embroidered in gold and silver. It was probably a ceremonial dress, considered Brennan, that would explain the glowing intensity that the whole clothes emitted.

Somehow, Booth had the feeling he had seen that kind of dress somewhere, yet this one was bright and shiny compare to... He stopped, of course he knew that dress, it was the same colorful animals the priest wore in his dreams. Though, it was darker and not shiny like the one maman Anise was wearing.

"I can feel you don't trust me, darling!" uttered maman Anise to Brennan.

"Of course" threw Brennan "I just told you," smirking.

" Yet, you need my help," she paused and glanced from Booth to Brennan, "you both need my help," she stated with a comforting voice, "Especially you!" she said her eyes now on Booth "You may be tough and strong but your enemies have weakened you both, and now they're expecting to have their fun."

Booth frowned at the mention of enemies. "Okay, I'm not buying either," he said coldly, glancing at Brennan. "I'm sorry, so either you speak clearly, or you can go!" he said to maman Anise. He was beat and drowsy with every minute. And now he started to have doubts this conversation would get them somewhere. Though in the back of his head he guessed this was taking a direction he didn't want to take with Bones. A certain subject he didn't want her to be concerned of. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes, hoping it would soothe the pounding behind his eyelids.

"Booth?" questioned Brennan, startled by his sudden burst.

"What? Don't look at me like that Bones! You said it yourself!" he stated anger in the voice.

"But you asked me to behave, and you don't! Are there special rules for you or ... "

"I think his behavior is understandable, as he's more concerned about you than not really believing what I said, darling" said calmly maman Anise.

His sight avoided Brennan's deep stare.

"But don't blame him" resumed maman Anise, "he knows the power beneath all of this, or at least an idea of it. And he's right, death is all around him! Though it has always been!" she said, her eyes rested on his pale feature.

He closed his eyes.

"But I can't help you with that," she said her voice a bit sad.

"What do you mean?" asked Brennan.

"I only deal with spell and magic, sorry darling!" said maman Anise.

"Booth what is she talking about? "

"It's okay Bones, she's right"

"But right about what? Booth."

Her little chat had disturbed her more than she ever thought possible. Was he still hiding things from her? she wondered . She turned to the small woman, angry about the words she said, and her easiness to read obviously in Booth, as she was incapable of.

Booth squeezed her hand, trying to calm her down.

"We will talk about that later, Bones, I swear."

His eyes were pleading her to drop the subject. As painful as it was for Temperance Brennan to put aside her questions, she did it for those deep chocolate and exhausted eyes.

"Later" she answered, in a whisper.

Booth nodded. Then, his sight went to maman Anise, encouraging her to resume, as he had no choice now but listen to her.

"Kids, I'm here to help you. But first you have to know that the magic involved is very strong and powerful. It is black voodoo. As your friend told me..." her sight went to Angela before going back to Booth "you had quite a fight, lately"

"That would be an understatement" Angela muttered .

"So, you're going to give us a counter spell and everything is going to be fine" smirked Brennan, challenging the small woman.

Maman Anise closed her mouth, a ghost crossed her eyes, giving a chill to Angela. Brennan stared at her, really not impressed. Booth in the contrary gazed at her, like he knew what she was going to say, and sighed. Maman Anise turned to him, ignoring Brennan's comment, and watched him with intensity, evaluating him. "You might win" she paused, looking through him, like she could reach his soul. "But you'll lose if you try to take him down by yourself," she stated bluntly.

Booth remained silent. Brennan watched him, she felt her stomach twisting inside.

"Look at you," maman Anise voiced, "You can't even hold a toddler right now! How do you really expect to kill him, hum?"

Booth's eyes shot her a freezing look, "I have no choice!"

"Listen to me, you'll need help," she glanced at Brennan, "She's already committed to the task!"

"Of course I'll help him" cut Brennan, without hesitation.

"No," uttered Booth, in protest "it doesn't have to be her".

"But you have no choice" threw maman Anise, " that is, if you don't want to die of course" stated the small woman, watching his reaction.

Booth avoided her sight, looking at the door. Why could he not manage this alone, he thought . He had dealt with worst in Afghanistan, why this should be different? Maman Anise seemed to understand his turmoil, as she resumed.

"First, we should start from the beginning. As your friend told me, it's quite complicated."

Brennan shot a questioning look at Angela.

"You know me," she said, apologizing, "always involved" she said with an embarrassed smile, as she tightened her hands together over her legs.

Brennan was about to talk when maman Anise stopped her, taking a serious face.

"I have to know how it started?" she asked to Booth, "Did you eat, drink or touch something different lately?"

Booth breathed heavily, "I don't recall anything in particular" he said, frowning as he tried to remember.

She watched him with intensity, like if she tried to read his mind.

"Are you sure? Nothing strange, someone you didn't know coming up to you in the street?"

"There's that leg you touched" Brennan intervened , her voice raised.

"The leg?" he stared at Brennan, evident surprise in the eyes. "What leg?" he rubbed his eyes gently, his headache was worse than ever, and he started to see stars dancing around Brennan's face.

"You don't remember?" she asked incredulously.

"Does that happen often?" cut maman Anise.

"What?" he said totally lost.  
"The memory loss my boy, or is it some kind of a new thing..." wondered maman Anise.

"No, it is new! Booth has an excellent memory! He can recall dates, people, just by looking at a file" said vigorously Brennan, defending her partner's abilities.

Booth looked at her, surprised by the strength she used to defend him. She caught his glance, blushing a bit.

"thanks Bones, I never thought you... Considered me like that" he said, his stare rested happily on her face as his lips tightened.

"Well, you have a good memory, it's a fact. I'm just stating it, that's all!" she said, blushing more.

He squeezed her hand, smiling weakly.

Angela smiled hugely, her eyes sparkling maliciously, hoping maybe the two of them would be ready to start something after all of this.

Maman Anise too, had noticed how these partners were close. "What is he not recalling?" she asked, getting serious.

Brennan watched her a moment before answering.

"The leg" she said, glancing at Booth "you found it six days ago, don't you remember?"

Booth frowned, he was having a hard time to remain focus. He could feel each bone in his skull pounding hard.

"I have no memory of that," he muttered.

"You questioned the man that held the leg this morning," added Brennan.

"I... Don't..." said Booth with difficulties. He blinked, dark spots stained his vision.

Maman Anise turned to Angela. "May I have some water please."

Without asking, Angela stood up and went to the kitchen, bringing back a full glass of water, she gave to maman Anise.

Putting the glass on the table, maman Anise pulled a tissue from her purse. She unwrapped it, revealing a small pile of brown and grey herbs. She grabbed three leaves from it. She crushed them between her fingers, and dropped the pieces into the glass. Slowly, the water turned into a greenish brown liquid as the particles dissolved inside.

She turned to Brennan and handed her the glass, as Booth was now leaning on the couch his eyes closed, sweating and breathing laboriously.

"He should drink this," stated maman Anise as her sight went to Booth.

Brennan stared at her then glanced at her partner and back to maman Anise who was still holding the glass.

"What's in it?" she asked with evident worries .

"Something that would help him to regain control for a little while."

"How do I know that it's not poisoned?" she threw.

"It's not poisoned, you will have to believe me." said the little woman.

"Bren," Angela intervened , "I'm sure it's good for him. I'm the one who went to ask her for help. I have faith in her, sweetie, I know it's not your call, but you should do too."

Brennan stared alternatively to Angela and Booth's tensed features. She was concerned by Booth's severe health state but couldn't hope for the best and give anything that comes to her reach. She had always acted on facts, and all that little woman was giving her was faith. That just wasn't her. She sighed deeply, staring at the dark glass. Once Hodgins had told her she had faith in Booth, maybe that was all she needed. Besides, her rational mind was telling her that if she wasn't doing something for him, things were just going to get worst. She sighed, unhappy about the choice she was going to make.

Silently, she grabbed the glass, and faced Booth, sliding her right hand behind his back.

"Booth?" she called.

It took him a lot of efforts to open his eyes, and locked into Brennan crystal blue stare. His forehead was beaded of sweat, and his body was now radiating heat. He never felt like that. He had the impression of fading away, like snow under a burning sun.

He had fever, thought Brennan, as she felt the heat burning through his sweatshirt on her hand.

"Booth, drink this, you'll feel better after" she said hoping he would buy it, as she didn't believe it herself, she just hoped.

Pressing on his back to help him sit upright, she brought the glass to his lips. She was shocked when he started to sip the brown stenchy liquid without protesting. Even the smell had become insufferable for her. He had to be really sick to just do what she asked. After sipping a quarter of the glass he stopped, blinking. She glanced at maman Anise.

"He must drink all," she stated.

Brennan watched as his head had rolled to her side, resting limply on her shoulder. His hair was wet, and stuck on his neck. Gently, she rubbed his back.

"Booth, you have to drink more," she brought the glass in front of his face.

Slowly, he raised an incomprehensive look to her. She nodded, and pressed the glass against his lips, encouraging him to drink. But this time, she helped him to gulp by bending the glass to pour more liquid inside his throat.

"That's good Booth," she cheered him up. "It's almost done."

When he finished the last drop, she helped him to lean in the couch. Without thinking she brushed his hair to the side, staring at the tension that begun to fade from his face.

"How long?" she asked, without turning to maman Anise.

"For the spell to wear off, about twenty to thirty minutes" answered the little woman.

Brennan faced her frowning. "What do you mean by the spell to wear off? Is this not a spell?"

"No darling, this" said maman Anise, her chin pointing to the empty glass, "this is just a protection, you can call it a barrier to help him to get better. Unfortunately, it won't last forever. If it works, he should be able to remember and gain some strength, but not for long. I'm sorry" added maman Anise, with sadness. "the rest is up to both of you."

Brennan stared at the little woman, her lips tightened. She felt like a hole had opened inside her, and nothing would be able to close it, never. Booth was now resting peacefully, his breathing steady.

Angela stood up, "I think we should make some coffee!" she declared. "I guess you are not going to talk more until he awakes?" she said, addressing to maman Anise.

Brennan nodded. Her friend was right, they have to wait for Booth to resume this conversation. She wasn't sure how, but maman Anise had definitely helped him to rest. She just hoped he wasn't going to dream.

"There's everything in the kitchen, Ange. I prefer to wait here... In case Booth needs me."

Angela gave her a big smile, "That's okay sweetie. I think I can make coffee without burning your kitchen," she added, tickling Brennan. "You care to help me," she asked to maman Anise, with a wink of an eye.

Both women headed silently to the kitchen, leaving Booth and Brennan alone. She slid her body beside him, her head resting against his shoulder. She could hear his steady breathing following the rhythm of his pounding heart. For a minute she closed her eyes, imagining they were resting in her office after a long hard day, and that he was fine, just tired. Whatever happens, he is going to be fine, she repeated to comfort herself.

ooooooo

Twenty minutes later, a delicate smell of coffee tickled her nostrils. She opened her eyes to discover Angela pouring coffee in two cups, and maman Anise was now sitting in front of Booth.

"Hey sweetie!" said her friend.

"He should be waking up in few minutes," added the little woman in a very convincing tone, as she handed her a cup of smoking coffee.

Brennan grabbed the cup, "thanks" and glanced at Booth sitting limply against the couch.

His face looked peaceful, like nothing happened this week. Only his skin was a reminder of what it had been, keeping traces of all the bruises and the restless week he had. She sighed, like a bad karma, would say Angela, the events had never stopped to come again and again and again, like they were chasing him. Her eyes dropped to her cup, staring at the black liquid that reflected her tired face. She tightened her grip around the cup, wrapping it like if it was precious.

"You know it feels better when it's inside" teased Angela.

Brennan glanced at her friends, feeling uneasy. Finally, she sipped the warm liquid, letting the heat invade her body, but then she realized the taste was sweeter than usual.

"Did you add something?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"something to keep you awake, darling" said maman Anise.

"It tastes good" said Angela, enjoying her own cup in front of Brennan.

Nodding to her friend, Brennan took another sip of the beverage. She was right, she was feeling better. A slight move to her right caught her attention.

"Bones," muttered, a tired Booth.

She turned to him with a worried face.

"How do you feel Booth?"

He didn't answer right away, his mouth was dry, and he was still a bit groggy. He blinked, trying to adjust his blurred vision. Then he answered with a cranky voice.

"Rested. What did you give me?" not that the answer really matters to him.

"I think it's called love" cut Angela, grinning.

"No, no " said Brennan blushing, "It was herbs from maman Anise. I... Don't really know what it was, Booth, I'm sorry," she said apologizing.

"Don't, it's okay Bones," he said smiling weakly, "I feel better. Thanks ."

"Hey Booth" called Angela, "you got us worried G man, though I didn't know you could be such a sleeper!" she said, grinning.

"Ange! We should focus before..." cut Brennan.

"What your friend is trying to say is that the herbs you drank are only a short protection from the spell. It won't last forever," said maman Anise.

Booth nodded, understanding the situation. He sat upright and took the cup maman Anise was handing to him. She waited that he had sipped a bit of the coffee before speaking.

"Do you remember the leg?" asked the small woman.

Booth thought for a minute. Brennan's stare was carefully recording each of his moves. She wanted to be sure he would be all right.

"I guess, yes. Why?" he asked.

"To discover the spell and the power within, I have to understand how it started and when," said maman Anise.

"I discovered the leg about six days ago, in an alley, near Broadstreet."

"Have you been in direct contact with it."

"I suppose you can say that. I got its blood on my hand." his sight wandered in the room, trying to erase the memory.

Brennan's bit her lower lip. He hadn't told her that, she thought.

"Did you wash your hand, quickly after you came in contact?" enquired maman Anise, frowning.

"You know, I was in the street with a bloody leg," he said calmly. "So, I waited for my colleagues to arrive and take charge of the leg and analyze the place. But I had the opportunity to dry my hand."

"I see" the small woman said. "It would have been better to clean your hand quickly."

"What's wrong with that?" asked Brennan. "My colleagues analyzed the blood, and they didn't find poison or anything like that!" she glanced at Angela for confirmation.

"That's right, there is nothing in the blood, that's Cam exact words," declared Angela.

"See," added Brennan, trying to be reassuring, "Nothing!"

The small woman turned her head to her, "I'm sorry darling, but magic is not ruled by science, only the blood was important," she turned to Booth, "and I'm afraid you allowed the spell to penetrate more than your body." Her face showed sadness. "I guess the worst nightmares started at this moment."

Booth wrapped his left arm around him, "Yes, they started to be more vivid," he said lowering his voice.

He felt Brennan's gaze staring at him.

"I kind of have dreams two weeks before that," he admitted, glancing at Brennan.

Now she understood why he was so exhausted when the things started to be weird. Two weeks before, she thought, and she hadn't noticed a thing. Sure he looked tired from time to time, but she had put that on the cases they were working on at the time. She had been blind all this time, while he was suffering silently. She cursed herself to not be as considerate as he was with her.

She felt his hand wrapping her fingers. He knew what turmoil was tearing her inside.

"Hey Bones! I thought it was just bad dreams, that's why I hid it from you, you couldn't have seen it, okay."

"Sure" she answered with a small voice.  
"Darling," said coldly maman Anise, "this was the past, you have to look at the future now!" she faced Booth, " Next time why don't you try to talk to your friends sooner. Maybe like that I won't have to come here and help you kids." she said, winking. "Now that we found out what started the spell, have you been in longer contact with the leg after that or any other parts of the body?"

"The other parts matters?" cut incredulously Angela.

"Yes it does darling. Same blood... "

"We found the other parts in a swamp" said Brennan.

Booth tried to hide the chill that run on his back at the memory of the swamp.

"And you?" asked maman Anise to Booth "were you involved at the time of the discovery?"

"I kinda dreamed of it," he said, feeling uncomfortable.

She watched him with intensity "What happened?"

"He beat the crap out of me, that's what happened!" he said, his voice raised with anger.

"In the dream, could you move?" asked the little woman.

"No. How do you know that?" His questioning eyes stared at her.

"You see, the blood you had on your hand, allowed your enemies to enter your dreams and to suggest you things. But you wouldn't be in that shape if it was only that. Something else happened, am I right? " "I don't know how to explain it, it's too weird" whispered Booth glancing at Brennan. She was watching him, her sight lost in her thoughts, "he kind of linked me to... to... " he stammered.

"To the scarecrow" finished Angela, locking with his deep brown eyes.

Booth stared at her, confused. How did she know that? Why they all knew things that seemed to him so complicated?

"I found a symbol on the dummy's chest and your picture hidden among the fabric." explained Angela, smiling softly.

Brennan raised her sight on her friend. A picture of Booth, a symbol... Could it be the same symbol that the priest had carved in his flesh, she wondered .

"What did your enemy do to bind you with the scarecrow? Did he use your blood?" asked maman Anise.

"I think it did. After having some of my blood spread on his blade, he stabbed the dummy... He growled some incomprehensive words, and he set the dummy in fire." Booth blinked, he could still feel the fire blazing in him.

The little woman plunged her sight inside Booth's eyes "And so you started to burn!" she stated.

He swallowed, avoiding Brennan's stare, "Yes."

That's why he was so burning, thought Brennan, it was not fever. But those things are impossible, totally irrational, she argued with herself.

Maman Anise had noticed how tensed Brennan had become as they talked.

"But you didn't die as he had planned to!" she said comforting him.

"No. I got help, and he said he was just beginning to have fun with me," he muttered.

She turned to Brennan, "She was the one who saved you!"

"Yes" confirmed Booth, looking at Brennan, "and she did more than once," he added, resting on her partner a soft gaze.

Brennan had to hide her sight as all the attention had been drowned to her. To her relief, maman Anise resumed the talk.

"Binding people's soul to a dummy is common but tricky in black magic, and very more effective when it's done with blood. I suppose it was his seconds steps to tighten his grip on you," she paused for a second thinking, as three concerned faces were waiting for her to resume. "this swamp, where the link was created, was it special in anyway?"

"It was creepy, that's for sure!" stated Booth.

"Gosh, I don't believe I've missed that. Damn it!" swore Brennan.

"Whoa! Bones" said Booth, surprise of her sudden burst of anger towards herself.

"It was just in front of us, and I didn't see it!" she voiced, her hands smashing her legs in frustration.

"Sweetie, calm down" cut Angela.

"I'm so stupid Angela! I'm sorry Booth I should have seen it sooner, the pattern,... the dummy,... the fire... all concurred to it."

"Conc... to what Bones?" he said lost.  
"The body parts..." she started, clutching her hands in fists, "they were placed in a pattern. Damn, where is it?" she said as she shuffled in the folder she had left next to the couch. "It was right there," she stated, showing to Booth a drawing of the crime scene.

His eyes widened at the recognition. She grabbed a pencil in her purse and started to link the spots where the limbs had been placed when they arrived. At last she linked the point two by two leaving one point between two. Her heart jumped as she discovered the drawing within. The drawing shook in her hands. Slowly, she laid it on the table.

"Hey!" voiced Angela "that's the same drawing I found on the dummy," she declared, her hand pointing to the drawing resembling to a five branch star inside a circle. "What does that mean?"

Maman Anise frowned, as she saw Booth and Brennan exchanging concerned looks. Finally, Booth nodded to Brennan, agreeing with her.

"It's the same symbol that Booth has on the side. It's like a deep burn," said Brennan, her eyes locked in his. "We think, it happened two days ago."

The little woman gave them a sad smile. "I'm really sorry." she said, her voice low now.

Brennan's eyes shot her an incomprehensive look, before staring at Booth who had retreated in his thoughts, his gaze lost on the floor.

A loud pounding invaded her head, she couldn't hear a word. She saw Angela's lips moving, but she couldn't reach the meaning. Then, as suddenly as it turned off, the sound came back aggressively. And with each word, a part inside her wanted to die.

"... a very strong spell. Binding you this way, the hougan was assured to give you no escape. He must fear you to come to this extremity, or it's pure hate, I'm really sorry." repeated maman Anise, addressing to Booth. "This is beyond my abilities, this hougan is very powerful." she stated with sadness. "You were right about fighting him alone, but next time,... " she paused, "he weakened you... I'm afraid you won't stand a chance. I'm very sorry!"

Booth nodded, understanding the implications.

"Quit, repeating this" yelled Brennan, "he's not dead yet," she stood, pointing a hand at Booth. "I saw him beat the odds many times, why not this time?" tears formed in her eyes. "Magic doesn't exist. It's only a thing you use to earn money from incredulous people. I am not!" she yelled, tears in her voice. "We are going to find that bastard, and then we'll go to the dinner and have lunch and laugh about all your fairy tales." her face had turned red, from the anger that burnt inside her.

"Sweetie," whispered Angela, "Please, it's not her fault. Calm down!" She too felt tears threatening to wet her eyes.

"I won't calm down. I am calm!" she voiced, tightening her jaws, "I do not believe in magic!" she stated loudly.

Somehow she hoped all bad things that stroke them this week would vanish if she shouted loud enough to convince the world to be rational.

"Magic does not exist!" she yelled.

Silently, Booth stood and pulled her into his embrace. She didn't resist and found her head cuddled in Booth's shoulder, crying all the tears she had buried so long ago.

" Shhhh, I'm still here." he said, with a soothing voice.

He looked at Angela, asking her silently to leave. Without a word she stood up and went to the kitchen with maman Anise.

Brennan sobbing on his shoulder, Booth wanted to caress her hair, but all he could do with his arm trapped on the side was to rub her back to comfort her. After few minutes her sobs turned into silent tears. Holding her like that was taking a lot of strength to stay up, and he felt the exhaustion coming back. He breathed heavily to keep his stance and not disturb his partner who needed comfort. That little voodoo priest was right, he had to admit, he was weak. Even his partner was becoming to be too heavy for him.

"Bones" he muttered in her ears as she had stopped to shake in his arms. Slowly, he drove her to sit on the couch, keeping her close in his arms. A gasp escaped his throat as he felt his ribs moved when he sat.

"Booth?" asked Brennan, with swollen red eyes locking into his face. "It hurts again."

This time it was not a question, more a fact she stated. With care, she pulled from his embrace and reach his pills and his cup of coffee. She checked to see if it was still warm before handing both to him. Without a word, he swallowed the pills in a sip of coffee.

"What are we going to do?" she asked him, uncertain.

"Beat the odds," he smiled, his finger rubbed her red cheek softly to dry the last tear that rolled down. "I'm not ready to leave you yet."

She smiled back. "I'm sorry I wetted your sweatshirt," she said, putting a hand on the wet cloth. She felt him shivering slightly.

"It's okay, I've got plenty like this one. Maybe I could sell it, I mean famous best seller tears must be worth the price," he grinned.

"Can't you be serious for a moment," she said, smiling hugely at the reference of her being a famous best seller.

"Never," he answered, with a cocky but weak smile. 

* * *

I tried to explain a lot in this chapter putting in perspective all that happened before, but I still have a couple of things in the next chapter, so don't try to find all the explanations in this one. J

As always your review will be well appreciated... so give me your thoughts... review


	13. together

**Author's note:** I'm very sorry for the delay. I had a busy week then, i've been sick (still sick), but hey, here it's the next chapter as promised.

As you may have noticed it happen to be the chapter 13... lol, it's magic J

**Disclaimer:**as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters... 

* * *

She looked through the window, her eyes red from the tears she had cried. The sun had disappeared a long time ago behind rows of big dark clouds. As the weather channel had planned, rain was coming and a storm would hit Washington D.C before the end of day.

"I'm sorry for your friends," said maman Anise behind her. "But you shouldn't worry for them. There's always hope, I'm just not sure to be really helpful for them. Magic is not as predictable as science."

"Well, I don't believe in science!" stated Angela, her throat dried. "But what I do know, is that you've underestimated them, and just in case you're wondering, I do believe in love. For what I have seen till now, they can face anything together. They're like rain and wind, each one is powerful alone, but much more powerful when they team up into a storm... And I'm telling you, they're going to make it. Bren is the smartest person I ever met. She'll find a way to help Booth. And that FBI guy is tough like you said, and his only weakness it's because he cares." she sighed, "I don't think it's a weakness, that's his strength."

Maman Anise shrugged, "You have faith in them, don't you?" she smiled, "Don't misunderstand me, miss Montenegro, I'm not here to blame any of them. You came to me for help, and that's what I do, most of the time. But you have to understand, I used to know how it's end when black magic is involved, and I never met people strong enough to get through a dark spell. Usually, I give a lasting protection, or I lower the spell and people got used to live with it. But I'm afraid this one, is not just a spell. It's impossible to lower it as long as more than few hours. It bears the mark of deep evil. I must admit, I never faced a spell so strong." she paused, looking at Angela, "I mostly do the healing spells, that's the root of voodoo, it's true nature."

"Then you should help them as much as you can... they are good people, I can swear there's no evil in them."

"Then perhaps, I might know someone," said the little woman, her eyes hidden by shadows.

Angela nodded. Her sight went to the dark sky that started to cover the city. Mentally, she prayed her friends would be fine.

Small laughs pulled her out of the scene before her. She turned to maman Anise, puzzled. Were the laughs coming from the parlor, her eyes wondered to her .

Frowning, both women walked to the parlor and discovered Booth and Brennan laughing. Both were sitting in the couch, their faces red from their laughs.

"That's so Parker" stated Brennan, smiling hugely at Booth.

"Yeah, that's my boy!" said Booth, with chuckles.

He wiped a tear from is cheek.

"Guys, you're okay?" asked Angela a bit confused.

"We are fine, Ange, do we look depress or something?" she said her face crimson as she stared at Booth with a complicit look.

"Not really, I'm just a bit surprise, that's all!" answered her friend. "If you're okay, I think I'm gonna leave for the Jeffersonian. I have a lot to catch up." she stepped to Brennan, hugging her "You're both strong sweetie, don't let anyone say the contrary," she whispered in her ears. Then, she looked at Booth, smiling. I really would like to hug you, but I guess it would hurt you, so I think..."

Booth smiled, "It's okay Angela."

She smiled, and stepped to hug him as well though she tried to be very careful not to squeeze him, scared to hurt his ribs. "You take care, G-man!" she whispered, winking at him.

Booth blushed, "I'll be fine, I have the best partner in the world," He muttered to her ear.

"Yep, you do!" she stepped back and headed to the door. "Call me if you need anything, Bren."

As she closed the door, Booth and Brennan turned to maman Anise who had stayed in retreat till now. She stepped up. Glancing at Brennan.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't want to scare you."

"You didn't," stated Brennan,"I don't believe in voodoo," she paused, "and I don't think there's destiny. Life is not written," her eyes darted to the little woman.

"I see," she glanced at Booth. "I may leave if you prefer."

Booth looked at Brennan, then at maman Anise, "I think it would be best if you don't have more advices," he said, still watching carefully Brennan.

" In fact, I do. I was wondering, how can someone had been able to carve that mark on you, without you noticing it?" she asked.

"I noticed it, it's just I didn't remember it right away." His deep brown gaze plunged in maman Anise's eyes. "And for the record, I didn't agree with it when it happened", a bit angry.

"So, you do remember when it happened," stated maman Anise. "How did it happen?"

He glanced at Brennan, she hadn't said a word, waiting for his answer.

"I... He managed to tie me up," he threw, feeling his anger rising.

"Yes, I understand, but let me explain why I'm asking you this. To enhance that spell to its full power, you have to agree to bear the mark. Did you ever agree about anything?"

Booth looked at her, stunned by her words. How could she imply he agreed in anyway for that . That was just pissing him off.

"How dare you?" he yelled, "I never agreed to this," he said, as he lifted his sweatshirt and pulled out the bandage violently to reveal the mark. "That," he shouted, showing the burn, "... is not something I wished for. It's burning, and it hurts like hell."

Brennan watched him, her smile had disappeared replaced by sadness. She didn't make a move to stop him to pull out his dressing.

"...As I wasn't agreeing when he made me drink his greeny stenchy stuff as well!" he finished.

"What greeny stenchy stuff?" asked the little woman, frowning.

"Well,... bad smell, bad taste, that's pretty much all!" he stated, annoyed by her question.

She smiled, "It's not what I meant! What did you feel at the time?" as she pushed further.

"I felt like I was going to throw up, are you satisfied? Cause I'm thinking I'm kinda tired of your questions!" now, he was really pissed off.

"I'll bet you feel angry right now, am I right?" she stated, in a well-assured tone.

"Well guess why?" he scorned.

"I think, you're starting to feel the spell that was cast on you returning with more power..." her voice trailed off.

His face was empty, like he erased every emotion from it.

"I'm really sorry, but you have to understand that by casting this spell with blood, it allows him to enter your dream, and with the doll, he can hurt you in your dream as well. And I'm sorry, but you're not going to make it disappear by yelling at me." she glanced at Brennan who was still, next to him.

He could feel the anger rising in him. Like a deep hunger, it burned, twisting and tearing his gut. But the worst was that the thumbing was back in the back of his head. Yet, it was not as strong as before. He glanced at Brennan, to find comfort, and he did as soon as he met her deep cristal blue eyes.

She pressed softly on his valid arm, and drove him to sit on the couch. As soon as he sat, he breathed deeply, and looked at maman Anise.

"You're right," he admitted, "I'm sorry."

Maman Anise smiled, "Well, we are all sorry," she said, winking at Booth, "I guess we're even."

He smiled back, his stare on maman Anise, as his hand had silently come to covert Brennan's.

"It's normal to feel this way, my barrier is collapsing, slowly, but still in few hours, all the anger you can feel now, and your darkest feelings will hit you with force." her eyes were sad now as she talked.

Brennan closed her eyes, trying to focus on the facts, repeating mentally, 'magic doesn't exist...'

"He probably made you drink devil's weed, it helps to fall in dreams controlled by a hougan. Since you've already been lacking of sleep, it became easier for him to interact with your thoughts and feelings."

He plunged his stare in the little woman. He had to throw the question that burned him since the first dream.

"Can he control me?" he asked, with a small voice. His heart began to beat hard in his chest waiting for the answer. Please, god, he prayed, don't turn me into a killing puppet.

"I don't know" she answered with a sad voice. "I heard legends about hougan able to control their victim's mind, but I never really saw it actually. As for all black magic if you fear him he would have a trigger on you, whatever that trigger is, you must not let him overcome you," she paused.

Fear, yeah, thought Booth, fear of losing her. He glanced at Brennan whose stare was focused on his face, trying to decode his thoughts. Then his sight returned slowly on maman Anise. He felt old and tired.

"And for the mark?" asked Brennan, trying to lead the conversation on another path.

"I guess the mark, whatever the symbol is, it's just to allow him to reach you anywhere, even when you are awake. I suppose it's stronger when you're sleeping," resumed maman Anise. "The symbol doesn't really matter, I think he might have used this one because it means something to you, it conveys more power when you believe in it. Are you Christian?"

"Yes" answered Booth, with a tired voice.  
"So that's why he used it. Because it means fear to you, evil, deep dark evil. This conveys fear. As his only way to kill you is to weaken you. The symbol is only a tool for him to reach you and deepened his grip on you."

Booth watched silently maman Anise. So, he used my belief against me, he thought.

"That makes no sense," he cut. "I couldn't see the pattern at first."

"Yes, but you knew something was there, and your subconscious probably did the rest of the work. That's how it works. Besides, it's probable that the real symbol, a voodoo one this time is hidden beneath this mark. Like that you don't know what you're against to. Somehow, it's a way to lure you. But the second symbol must be very powerful."

"Another symbol?" asked Brennan, puzzled.

"Yes, a voodoo one," she looked at her, a shadow crossed her eyes. "It could be a shape within the shape, by hiding it, he's sure I won't be able to give you a working counterspell. In fact,..." she continued, looking at Booth, "... putting you physically, even in the dream, in the center of that mark with the doll and the limbs all around you, which you've been bind with their blood, strengthen the link between you and the victim. Anyone who is in contact with parts of this body is able to reach you somehow."

She stopped as an idea crossed her mind, "You do have the whole body?"

"Not really,"Brennan pouted, "We haven't recovered one hand and the head."

"I'm afraid, until you have all the parts you will be in danger," she said, as her sight went to Booth. "He would always be able to reach you, awake or not because of the symbol carved in your flesh and bound to the body," said maman Anise sternly. "The only help I can provide you with, is summoning the kindness of the great warrior god Flimani Koku, he provides defense against witchcraft and evil," she stopped to let them understand where her words were leading them.

"But you have to understand, alone you won't stand a chance," she stared at Booth.

His eyes clouded by shadow, watched maman Anise. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, shaking his ribs. He didn't like the way their talk was heading to.

"Together, there's a small chance you win," she stated, with a stern voice.

Her words cut like a sharp blade inside his chest. Why Brennan had to be involved? He prayed somehow they were going to find another way that this woman was wrong. But maman Anise continued her speech. Brennan was now listening carefully her words, he noticed, as he felt a grip clutching his heart inside him.

"This hougan is really strong and his black magic is too powerful for me. I just hope these mojos and the great Flimani Koku would be of some help in your fight against evil," she handed to Brennan two small brown bags, knotted by a black long string.

"These, will provide you a small protection against what you're going to face. She pulled a long sleeve of paper and a colored feather from under her dress. Then she looked at them.

"To invoke the great god, you will need to read this aloud. But first I'm going to need your blood, at both of you," she said, watching closely Brennan. She pulled a small curved knife with a white bony handle and a small saucer from a red purse in linen she had brought.

As she laid the saucer on the table, she turned to Booth. "I will require your hand," she stated.

"No" voiced Brennan, "You're going to take his blood!... Don't you see how he is? He had already lost blood yesterday, and it would be too dangerous for him to..."

"Bones" Booth intervened, as he pressed his hand on her shoulder. "I would be fine. I don't think she's going to suck all my blood, right?" he said, in a soothing voice, as he glanced at maman Anise.

"Few drops should be enough" stated the small woman.

"See!" he said, trying to smile to Brennan.

"You're not believing what she said?" asked Brennan. Her gaze almost imploring him.

"I think, I should try everything to make it stop, and I'm willing to try this, who knows it could work," he smiled, his eyes trying to comfort her and make all her fears vanish.

" But..." she paused, looking straight into his deep brown eyes. She could discern his determination behind the dark veil of exhaustion.

She nodded, "I understand, if you think you should do it, then I will too" and on these words she offered her right palm to maman Anise. Her sight still watching him.

As soon as she had given her hand to the small woman, Booth had felt a surge of pride and fear rushed inside him at the same time. Proud he was that she trusted him enough to decide so easily to act even without believing, and fear for the path she was about to embark on. A dangerous path, where he wasn't sure he could protect her.  
With her palm, maman Anise cuddled Brennan's hand and in a swift move, she cut deeply in her ring finger. Slowly, a thin blood line appeared, and red drops started to drip onto the saucer. Finally, when the saucer turned red, she turned to Booth. While Booth gave his bandage hand, Brennan fumbled in her purse, and pulled out a small cloth pad she pressed on the cut.

When maman Anise held Booth's hand, she raised her eyes on him, frowning. His friend was right, he hadn't much left, she thought. She could feel his energy dropping badly. With caution, she cut into his ring finger, and pressed on it to help the blood to drip onto the saucer. Slowly, drops of blood started to drip, and mixed with Brennan's. When she seemed satisfied by the amount of blood in the saucer, she released his hand, and plunged the thinnest part of the feather into it. Then, she started to write on the paper using their blood as ink.

Interested, Booth watched her, writing long sentences on the paper, as he pressed his hand against his side. But he had to detach his sight, as he felt Brennan's warm finger pulling his hand to her. She grabbed another cloth pad, and pressed it on his fresh cut. Then, she held it in place with tape.

"Thanks, Bones" he said, smiling weakly.

She didn't answer, as she gave him the best smile he ever saw in his life.

Then maman Anise stared at the paper checking her writing. She raised her sight on Booth and Brennan.

"One of you will have to read this aloud, when you'll face the hougan in the dream. It would be wise to memorize it soon," she rolled the paper and handed it to Brennan.

Brennan smirked as she grabbed the scroll. "In a dream! Are you kidding !" she glanced at Booth and then turned to maman Anise. "You can't expect us to have the same dream at the very same time! This is totally improbable not to say impossible!"

"Then, you should not fear that your friend falls asleep," scowled, the little woman.

"I'm not!" countered Brennan.

She looked straight into Brennan.

"Of course, you're not girl. You're too pragmatic to have those feelings, right!" she smirked, as she stood up.

Brennan had closed her mouth, tightening her jaws.

"But that's not what's important to you, so let me give you one last advice to you kids. My barrier will only hold until tonight. Till then you have the time to prepare. Wear these mojos around your neck, and if you are connected somehow, you may find yourselves in the same dream. But remember, the hougan is strong because he feeds on fear, that's his power. The only way to overcome him, is to free your mind and release your feelings, use your friendship, and the bond you have together, it's powerful. This, he can't do nothing against it. One other thing." she paused, waiting to have their full attention, "to use this level of power the hougan may not be alone, he may have a bokor to do the job for him. I can sense you have more than one enemy," she said. "Be very careful!"

We will," added Booth, "And thanks for your help."

She headed to the door, as she was about to leave she turned to them leaving the door ajar. Her eyes were sad and merciful as she looked at them, "Be sure to wear the mojos I gave you." she said, her eyes pointing to the small brown bags on the table. "You will need them, if you want to..." she paused, uncertain.

Booth nodded to her. She turned to the door and without a word she left Brennan's apartment.

Brennan followed her to close the door behind her and headed back to the parlor. Booth was still sitting on the couch, his gaze lost in some other world. She sat quietly beside him.

His deep brown gaze went to the floor slowly, "I don't want you to go there, Bones. I can manage it alone, I'll be fine." he glanced at her.

"We said we would do it together Booth. Besides, you know you won't change my mind when I've decided to do something," she cuddled his hand to comfort him.

He sighed deeply, "You know sometimes I wish you weren't that stubborn. It's dangerous, and you have no idea of what you're going to face, but I do!"

"But I know with who I will be going" she stated proudly, smiling.

He chuckled "Huu! Thanks," he smiled back, " but don't think it means you've convinced me! At least, listen to me there?"

"Sure, you know me!" she said as she winked at him.  
"Exactly!" he said smiling, "There, we would have to act quickly and stay the less possible time. Like she said the more we stay, the less are our chances to get out unharmed."

"I know Booth," she glanced at the paper on the table that maman Anise had left. She grabbed it and read it silently after a minute, she looked straight into his eyes. "I think I will know it in twenty minutes. Do you want to read it ."

"I already know it," he said, as his left hand hid a yawn, " I read it, when you closed the door."

She smiled "You really have a good memory, I was right before!" she stated proudly.

"Well, when I see an image or words,... it's just like a picture, it's easy to remind it." he said in childish proudly way, as he plunged his deep brown stare into her.

She couldn't repress a smile at his expression.

Suddenly, his cell phone rang. He picked it up reluctantly as he had to break the warm feeling that spread into the room each time he looked at her graceful face.

"Agent Booth, sorry to bother you sir?" said a young male voice on the phone.

"It's okay Sawyer. What's going on?" answered Booth, as he rubbed his forehead.

"You remember the suspect you interviewed this morning?"

"Yes, what about him? Did you find his id?"

"Huu, well, actually we did, but the man is kind of dead, sir!"

"How can he be dead?" Booth scowled .

"Few hours from now, it seems he was found dead in his cell. The medic concluded to a cardiac arrest, but..." the young agent hesitated, "they're not that confident about their conclusions, it's kind of strange."

"What do you mean by strange Sawyer?" Booth glanced at Brennan, who was now watching him, a bit anxious.

"The medic said the body was too cold to be dead that short. For them, the death had to occur four days ago."

A puzzled look appeared on Booth's face. "That's not possible, the man seemed to me being very alive when I talked to him this morning. The docs must be wrong. Besides, four days means a rotting body, and he kinda smell bad but not that worst anyway."

"I don't know sir, I'll have the file on your desk by the time you head to the bureau, or I can bring it to you if you prefer?"

"No Sawyer, send it to the Jeffersonian with the body, I'd like the squint to have a look at it," answered Booth.

"Yes sir," said the young agent before hanging up.

There was something weird with this death. Weird as the universe they've just collided into. Booth swallowed before turning to Brennan, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"So much for that petty lead!" he whispered.

"Booth," asked Brennan, "what's going on?"

Booth took a deep breath before locking his chocolate eyes into hers.

"The man we..." he rephrased, "I interviewed this morning, is dead. It means we don't have any other leads now," he paused, seeking his words into Brennan's eyes. "I don't have the choice now, I'll have to do what maman Anise told us," his sight dropped to the floor. "I know it sounds crazy, and that you don't believe in this ... Stuff. But, I'm asking you to stay." He looked at her, his brows curved. "Please" he added with a pleading voice.

She took a deep breath. She had listened all that he said, and even if she didn't believe in the same way he does, she was sure of one thing, she wouldn't abandon him. She raised her eyes on him, taking a long look at his bruised and battered body. Her lips tightened to muffle her fear. The fear to lose him again.

"I told you before Booth, I won't leave you, period!"

He sighed heavily. She was waiting for him to argue more, and was ready to defend her point of view. But he didn't argue, he just looked at her, his eyes sad, as he swallowed.

"I guess, it makes you as crazy as I am," he said, as he tried to smile but failed.

She smiled back. "You should rest," she said as she stood, "If what she said is true, we should get ready before the barrier disappear." she stopped, realizing what she'd just said. "I don't believe I'm talking like if it was really going to happen."

"It's already happening," stated Booth, "I can feel it." He let his head fall backwards, feeling exhausted.

"Yes, you seem more tired," she brushed softly his hair on the side. "And the fever is back," she noticed, her hand resting on his forehead. "Then, I suggest you rest, I'll be back in few minutes," she added, as she headed to her room.

ooooooo

"Hey, guys!" voiced Angela from the bottom of the stairs.

Only Hodgins greeted her with his usual smile. "Hey baby! Did you see Brennan?"

"Yes, I did," she sighed "and they're not looking good, especially our G-man." She locked into his eyes.

"What happened Ange?" asked Hodgins, worried.

"I have a bad feeling..." she bit her lower lips, "That's so unfair Jack, that they have to go through all of this."

He stroked her back, and gently pulled her into his arms.

"It's okay, Angela. I'm sure they're going to be alright. They're tough you know."

"Yes, but what if... " she said as panic overwhelmed her.

" Ange..." started Hodgins, as he broke their embrace and raised her chin to look at him. "Trust them."

She allowed a small smile to curve her lips.

"You're right," she rubbed a small tear from the corner of her eye.

"Is it the lab of doctor Brennan?" asked a voice behind them.

They turned to see a tall young man in a black suit, a file in one hand at the bottom of the stairs. He was looking annoyed by the guard near the stairs.

"Yes," answered Hodgins, puzzled. "What can we do for you?"

"Agent Sawyer, I have a file and a package for you from special agent Booth," he said as he pointed to two men who were rolling a long metallic box.

"It's a body, in case you wondered," stated the agent.

"Ho!" said Angela, "That's not new here! We have plenty of them."

"Where can we put it?" asked the agent, ignoring her words.

"In lab four, I'll show you the way," said Hodgins, as he walked down the stairs and lead the way.

Angela watched them disappearing behind the door of lab four.

"I hope you're right Jack," she whispered, as she looked up as to reach any divine answer. "I hope they'll be okay."

ooooooo

He was drowsy since some times now when she came back with two blankets. Some blurred images appearing and mixing with the vision of the parlor. It's starting, thought Booth. He was fighting to keep his eyes open, but each time he succeeded, it was only for few seconds before he had to fight against the calling sleep.

She sat beside him, and put the covers on the side.

"Booth," called Brennan.

She started to worry as he didn't answer. His eyes were open, but they seemed to be lost in another world. She put her hand on his forehead, and stroked his hair softly.

" Humm, I'm awake," he mumbled.

His eyes blinked several times before adjusting his vision on Brennan.

"You're burning!" she stated, concerned.

She stared at him, unable to look outside his brown painful gaze.

"How do you feel?" she asked with a soft voice.

He managed to smile faintly.

"Felt better..." he sighed, as his eyelids started to feel heavy again. Feeling slipping again, his eyes jerked open as he'd been struck by lightening.

"Bones?" he mumbled in a low voice.

"I'm here Booth... It's starting, isn't it?" her voice was now showing all the tension that arose in her.

He blinked one time, as to say yes. Even talking was taking most of his strength now.

"Booth, remember what maman Anise said, it's just a dream. They can't hurt you unless you let them," she stared at him waiting for an answer. But none came.

Quickly, she grabbed the small bags that laid on the table. Gently, she cuddled Booth's head with one hand, and put the string around his neck. The small bag hanged loosely over his chest, raising in the rhythm of his breathing. His head fell limply on the couch, his eyes fully open looking at Brennan. She saw the fear of slipping into the dream that invaded his eyes, and how he tried to keep his eyes open. She wanted to hold him, stop him from going there. But there was nothing she can do, and her gut twisted as she realized that he had lost the battle as he blinked several times before his eyes closed definitely.

"Booth," she called, scared. "I'm coming! Wait for me Booth!"

She put the bag around her neck, and grabbed the blankets she had brought with her. Slowly, she covered Booth with a blue blanket. As maman Anise had told them, the dream could last for days, and she didn't want him to be cold, especially with the fever he already had. When she was done, she grabbed the other blanket and rolled herself in it. She leant against him, her cheek on his shoulder. She pulled his bandage hand from the blanket and cuddled it between her warm fingers. This had to work, she prayed, though she didn't believe in god, she hoped she would be able to help him. She closed her eyes, and waited for the sleep to take her.

ooooooo

The freezing darkness was all that was left now, he could feel it. Is it what being dead feels like, wondered Booth .Obscurity surrounded him. He swallowed and tried to stand. But he felt too heavy to be able to move, and each time he tried to push on his arms to stand, his fingers deepened in some kind of mud. This means he was in a place with a wet ground, and that could be anywhere, he scowled. Lying face down on the wetted ground, he realized he was only dress with a t-shirt and a pair of paints. His sweatshirt had disappeared as well as his shoes. He really didn't like the sound of that. Last time he woke up like that he was in a very bad dream. But this time he won't stay paralyze waiting for the beating to come.

He turned his head on the side seeking for something he would recognize. It took him a lot of strength as the weight on his shoulder increased crushing him against the damped ground. He felt the cold mud seeking his way between his lips and nose as his head was pushed further into the ground. The cold had wrapped his face and breathing became hard. The mud crept all over his face and ears. He could taste the soil on his tongue, as the mud had invaded his mouth. Not like this, he thought, I can't die like this. Panic and anger overwhelmed him. He caught trying to get rid of the mud in his nose and throat, but he only succeeded at getting more mud in. Choking he gathered all his strength in a last effort to raise his upper body from that sucking soil. The weight on his chest deepened as he pushed further. He felt his ribs screaming under the pain. A small crack, warned him he had probably broken some of them under the pressure. He was out of breath, and his face was turning red when he finally managed to get his face out of the mud.

He spilled violently the mud. Hissing, he stayed, knelt and bent to the ground, his hands squeezing the slicking mud under his palms, as he tried to catch his breath. The weight crushing him had disappeared the moment he had been able to breathe again. With one hand he wiped the mud from his eyes and face. Then, he realized he was able to move both hands without a cry of pain from his shoulder. He had to be dreaming, again. Blinking, he adjusted his vision to the blackness, still shaking. Somewhere between the dark shadows of this eternal night, he discerned a black eerie shape. A cold chill ran along his back. He knew this place!

"It's about time you join me, agent Booth!" scowled a voice behind him.

Booth froze, he knew where he was. He was back in the swamp.

* * *

Hope you liked this one, it took me a while to put all things together as I wanted.

As always, reviews are well appreciated...


	14. in devil's fangs

**Author's note:** Sorry I'm a bit late... I worked on this chapter this week end and couldn't correct it before today. I have to admit I'm not totally satisfied with my writing but I think the plot will be okay.

Hope you'd enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

Her first impression was the cold she felt inside her body. The loneliness of the place was probably the cause of it. All around her were so dark, and so empty. It was the reign of silence. It seemed she had entered a world plunged in eternal darkness, a world already dead.

A long painful howling broke the silence. She froze, looking around her. But the place was too dark to see a thing, she couldn't even see her hands. Where was she anyway? And more important, where that howling was coming from?

There was no light, not even stars, and she didn't feel anything on her eyes. So, she deduced she had to be in a closed place, despite a cold wind chilling her body.

She crossed her arms to keep the warmth. She stepped slowly, checking the floor with her foot. It seemed flat, and yet covered by small bumps. Concrete she deduced, it must be concrete. But where am I? She looked around, more by reflex hoping to catch a ray of light, but everything was dark. She sighed.

Think Temperance! What's the last thing you remember? My apartment, right! I was on the couch, next to Booth. So, how did I get here?

I'm walking, breathing. I'm not in a dream, that's impossible, she thought. She turned around.

"Booth?" she called, her voice echoed in the lonely place.

She felt a lump forming in her throat. Where was he? If they've been abducted together, why wasn't he here with her? That doesn't make any sense. Or maybe, their enemy had already taken care of him. Oh please no, she thought.

She poked the space before her, as she was walking slowly, careful with each step.

Finally, her fingers met a wall. It was wet and coarse. Keeping her right hand stuck to the wall, she decided to go along and see where it would lead her, hoping to find an exit. After four corners and a very long time, she stopped, confused. This place seemed to have no ending. Four corners, she should have found an exit by now. All along she had counted her steps. She calculated, she was in a room about thirty by twenty yards long. She could still feel the wind coming from behind her, but why hadn't she found any opening. Her jaws tightened. She had to find a way out. Booth was probably somewhere outside, and he was in no shape to face their enemy. Damn it, Temperance, think. She cursed herself to be so useless. She promised him to be there for him, and now she was just unable to get out of this place. Ok, think straight Temperance, Booth is tough, he can handle himself. Maybe not too long right now, but you have to find something.

She sighed heavily, leaning her head on the wall. It was cold and wet, chilling her back. A cold breeze blew her hair. The wind, of course, she cursed herself, why she hadn't thought of it before. If she could find where it came from, maybe she would be able to get out of here and get to Booth. With her hope restored, she walked toward the breeze. She would find an exit, and she would find Booth.

ooooooo

He laid the box on his desk, near his glowing computer. The place was quiet. Everyone had headed back home. Of course thought Zack, if Booth was there he would have teased him about his needs to stay late like his boss. The memory of the special agent brought strange feelings to his mind. Why did he feel like that? Probably, something he ate at lunch, he deduced, shaking his head, he looked at the content of the box.

The search at Booth's apartment had not been as interesting as he first hoped. Mainly, because they only discovered what doctor Brennan already knew. The blood on the wall belonged to Booth, and besides clear evidence of violence there, he hadn't found anything relevant to help improve the agent's condition.

He sighed, maybe he wasn't sagacious enough. He raised his head looking at the blue light coming from Angela's office. Then, he turned from his desk and headed to the stairs. Maybe, Angela would have better news than him.

As he entered her office, he noticed she wasn't alone, Hodgins was sitting beside her, both facing her computer.

Focused on the screen, both didn't hear him coming closer. On the screen, Zack could see different herbs appearing with a small text below the picture.

"I haven't found anything at Booth's place," said the young anthropologist, with a tired voice.

"Well, we're trying to find a plant Jack found on the clothes of our headless victim," said Angela.

"That's it!" voiced Hodgins, "that's my little green friend, look at those leafs... Whoa, that's the same I found."

"Yeah, but what's particular with it?" asked Angela.

"It's the same family as marijuana. So, now we have to find where this green little weed was produced, then we'll have something!" he grinned to Angela as he stood up, very excited. "Hey Zack, you're here!" Hodgins exclaimed, as he pressed a hand on the young shoulder.

"Yes, I am! But I'm starting to regret it!" Zack pouted.

"Ok, listen," cut Hodgins, ignoring his last comment. "Her highness wants to see you, she has a new... meaty body," he smiled to the young man. "Hey, it's gonna be fine, Zack," seeing Zack pouting, "it's just flesh! Now go!" he said, as he gave him a small slap in the back.

Then, he sat back in front of the computer, and started to type to begin his search. When Zack finally left, Angela raised her look on the man beside her.

"He's worried!" she said.

"Of course he is! His Igor attitude is just something he used to wear because of the job. But don't worry he'll handle it, Angela!"

"I'm not worrying about him, I mean not that much. I'm more concerned about Booth and Brennan. It's been three hours since I left them, and they didn't call, Jack!" her voice was now shaking under invisible tremors.

"I'm sure they're fine" comforted Hodgins.

"But what if they're not? What if that mad man has found them? What if they're hurt and waiting for us to show up? We are sitting in our chair, looking at a cold screen, without any clue of what's going on with our friend!" tears formed in her eyes. "What if..."

Hodgins put a finger on her lips to stop the flow of words.

"We are here, because it's the only way to find evidence of what happened, and help them at the same time!" he stated.

His hand ran along her cheek, and to her hair. Then, he pulled her to him, his face inches to her lips. He felt her shivering under his caress. Slowly, he pressed his lips on hers and kissed her deeply. Then, he pulled back and stared at her. His hand stroke her forehead as he lifted a small lock of hair.

"I'm sure they're doing okay!" he declared with a soothing voice, stroking her hair.

ooooooo

His face collided with the rock, cutting his lower lips. A small crack warned him, he had probably broken a bone. One more he thought. As he tried to retort to his opponent, he felt a wave of pain soaring from his jaw. Face down, his arms shaking under his panting breathing, he spilled blood on the ground.

"I can't say... I'm happy to see you... too," he managed to breathe out.

The man behind him, stepped to his side, a dark evil smile curving his lips. He grabbed Booth's hair and pulled his head backwards, exposing his throat to his knife.

"You're not gonna make it, agent Booth! And your arrogant cocky speech won't save you!" the dark priest growled.

"Maybe," puffed Booth, "But I'm not gonna let you win today!" he said, elbowing the man hardly in the chest.

He stood up, panting. "I've learned few things since the last time, like this is a dream, and I can control it." he punched the priest on the face, sending him to the ground. "See, my arm works here... What do you say ... I kick your ass for once, humm!" smirked Booth still panting, as he took a fighting stance.

The other raised to his feet, rubbing the blood on his lips with the back of his hand. With a fast move, he reached for his knife in the grass, but Booth was quicker and tossed it away with his foot. Grabbing the dark priest by the collar, he knocked him down with a head blow.

"You will not win, agent Booth" spilled the man on the ground. "Your friend has come too!" he snarled.

"She did!" Booth exclaimed. "Where is she?" he asked, with an angry voice.

He bent to grab the man by the neck, and pinned him to the ground, squeezing his throat.

"Where is she?" he screamed, his hands tightening around his enemy's throat. "Where... Is... she?" he repeated, his eyes empty of any mercy.

"You won't... Find her!" gulped the man, breathless.

"That's not for you to decide!" shouted Booth, his anger flowed his body.

Then, he started to punch the priest, and didn't stop until his hand hurt like hell.

"I repeat..." he yelled, "Where is she?"

The priest's face was now covered of blood and bruises.

"I tied her to the tree..." expelled the priest, as he gasped.

Slowly, his hand went to his pocket unnoticed by Booth as his sight was wandering to the tree, looking for Brennan. The priest smiled as he found what he was looking for, his fingers closing on the blade.

With a quick move, Booth turned the priest on the ground, his face pinned in the grass, and locked his arms in his back.

"You come with me, "he said, as he pulled the man up on his feet.

Keeping the priest's arms stuck behind his back, Booth pushed him to the tree. The soil was wet and cold as his bare feet deepened into the mud, soaking the bottom of his paints. The sky was dark over them, the stars hidden behind black heavy clouds. A cold breeze chilled his body as they arrived near the twisted tree.

"Where?" he asked, coldly, pulling up the priest's arm until he felt his shoulder cracking.

"Behind," screamed the priest in pain.

Still holding the priest, Booth circled the tree.

"Bones," he called, with relief, as he saw his partner tied to a thick black root soaring from the soil.

Booth pushed the priest to the ground, and rushed to his partner. A tissue was put over her mouth. He was about to take it off, when the priest jumped on him, throwing him to the tree. Before he had the time to react, a small knife rested under Brennan's throat.

"And now, what are you going to do, agent Booth?" sneered the priest. "I told you you'd be the one to bring her before me," he said as he pressed lightly the blade to her throat.

A thin red line of blood slid from the cut. Booth could see the fear in her eyes. He was sure his eyes were matching the same fear.

"No, don't..." he screamed to the priest, his hands raised in a defensive way. "Please, I'll do everything you want," his voice pleading.

"Yes, you'll do" scowled the dark man. "On your knees!" he commanded.

Booth exchanged a sad look with Brennan, before falling on his knees. He bit his lips, watching the priest with intensity.

"Let her go!" he said, his voice empty, "I won't fight back!"

The priest laughed at Booth. "You were never the goal, agent Booth. She was! I told you you'd be her doom!" stated the priest. And like in slow motion, Booth saw him pressing the blade against her throat and sliced her throat open. He rushed to him, but was too late. He only succeeded to receive her fallen body in his arms. She was shaking, her body ran by violent tremors. He pressed a hand to the large cut, the blood flooding between his fingers. Tears ran down his cheeks, as she convulsed in his arms. Her eyes asking why now.

"Temperance hold on," he cried.

He pressed harder on the cut hoping it would stop the blood flow. But in a final gulp of air mixed with blood, she pressed a hand on his cheek. Caressing his face, only her eyes could now talk, as life was leaving her. He pressed his forehead to her face.

"Don't leave me Temperance, please, hold on," he said, his voice imploring her to stay.

He knew by the size of the wound and his experience in Afghanistan, there was no hope she could survive to this. His heart twisted inside his chest. She can't die, he repeated to himself, not like this.

His throat tightened as her vision blurred, her lips moved but no words came out. Then, her hand left the warmth of his cheek to fall limply on the cold ground. Her eyes empty, looking at nothing as life has deserted her body. He embraced her body to his chest, squeezing her in his arms. Weeping, he nestled his face in her neck, rocking her lifeless body.

A light rain started to fall, wetting their bodies, blending their blood. Then, as if the rain could sense his distress, the flow increased, drenching his t-shirt covered by Brennan's blood, her blood, he thought. His t-shirt had turned to red, he noticed, but what the hell, she wasn't there anymore, what purpose does he have in life now? She meant too many things for him, he would never be able to stand without her, never. He stroke her back, pressing her against him like the closeness could bring her back to life. The world faded around him. She was dead, his mind repeated, and he was responsible for it. His hand ran into her wetted hair, keeping her face buried in his neck. She was dead. Sat on the dampish grass, he rocked her lifeless body, his soul weeping for all the things he hadn't the time to show her and all the things he would never be able to tell her.

The dark priest curved his lips into an evil smile as he watched Booth rocking Brennan's body.

"You're out of game agent Booth," he whispered.

ooooooo

Poking the wall, her fingers finally found what she sought, a long thin rift, wide enough to slide her fingers inside. The wind was coming from it, cold and humid. Slowly, she ran her fingers up and down, seeking some kind of mechanism, it had to have one, she thought. Then, she felt a small wooden stick under her fingers. Pulling the stick down, she heard a click just before a trap door opened in the ceiling. A white faint ray of light enlightened the place, pointing to the exit.

She sighed, finally, she was going to get out of this place. Looking at the opening, she realized a rope swayed loosely from side to side.

She grabbed it, and slowly started to climb to the opening. She entered a small room, and noticed this time the place had a door. Lifting her body with only the strength in her arm, she rolled to the side to catch her breath. Her sight wandered in the room. It was a small student room with a bed, a desk and few shelves full of books. She raised to her feet, using the bed to support her weight. This ascension had worn her off. She sat on the bed, looking at the desk. Something in this place was familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on it. Staring at the shelves, she recognized the books as the one she had in college. This is impossible she thought. Stepping to the shelves, she read the titles on the covers. All these books, she knew all of them. Her eyes widened when she noticed, one small book laying on the desk. The cover had been torn off, and it looked like he'd been used for centuries. Stroking the front page, she read mentally the now almost erased title. It was the first book she had on anthropology, like a guide for her when she lost her parents. Her father had given it to her for her fourteen. A small tear ran along her cheek. She dried it with the back of her hand.

Okay, Temperance, think, this isn't going to help you find Booth. She ran a hand in her hair. First, this place exists only in my mind, it's a recreation of my past. She closed her eyes and focused on an empty place, with no wall, only stars around her.

Slowly, she opened her eyes to discover she was under a black sky covered with stars. A soft warm breeze blew in her hair. She was free. Then, it meant she was actually in a dream and she could control it. Proud of herself, she closed her eyes once more and focused her thoughts on her partner. She pictured his face, his cocky attitude every time , they argued, and of course his well-know charming smile. A smile curved her lips as she portrayed her partner. When she was sure she had the perfect picture of him, she slowly opened her eyes.

What she discovered squeezed her heart. She was under the same black sky as before, but this time there was no star, only darkness. She was in a middle of black landscape beaten by a heavy rain. Between the falling rain colliding with the ground and the winding howling, she heard a long moan coming from behind her. As she turned, she distinguished a small shape, like a man standing near a twisted tree, but the cries that attracted her attention were coming from the bottom of the tree. A man was sitting there, his knees to his chest, his arms circling them. He was rocking slowly, his head buried in his knees muffling his cries. By his muscular shape and the brown dark hair, she recognized Booth. She dropped to her knees beside him.

"Booth" she called, as she slowly approached her hand to caress his hair.

But she had to pull it off, as he started to shake violently.

"It's a nightmare!" he mumbled. "Go away, leave me alone!" his voice struggled to say.

Her heart twisted inside her, as she realized the pain he was enduring. He's in shock, she thought.

"Booth, it's me! Bones," she said, staring at his nestled form.

She wanted to make his rocking stop, to circle his shaking body with her arms. But every time she touched him, he was reacting violently, and now he had retreated to the tree, hands covering his ears.

Slowly, she stepped to kneel next to him. The rain had drenched his body, and that's then she noticed he was wearing only a t-shirt. But if it was Booth, he should be wearing his sweatshirt, she thought. Was he real? Or was he a creation of her mind? But then, she recalled what he told her earlier about his dreams, how confusing they could be, and how he was always dressed differently than the reality. But why not her? She wondered. Perhaps because she had succeeded to join him in his dream, and maybe the rules of this world applied differently for her.  
"He can't hear you," sneered the man behind the tree. "I have destroyed his will!" he stated coldly.

"No," she yelled, "he's stronger than what you think!" she paused, looking at the man, "I guess you're the one behind all of this!"

"Ah! Doctor Brennan, we finally meet! I thought you would be taller!" smirked the priest.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, as her sight stopped on his shaking body.

"Let's say, he didn't like what he saw," laughed the priest.

She breathed deeply, staring at her partner, rocking defenseless in this nightmare. They had done something to him, probably playing with his mind. She swallowed, before her hand reached his face.

"Booth, it's me, I'm real! Whatever he said to you it's not true!" she paused, her fingers stroked softly his cheek.

She felt him trembling under her touch. He tried to avoid her hand, but his back was already stuck to the tree. Gently, she pulled his hands from his ears.

"Booth, I'm real. Look at me!" she cuddled his chin, raising his face to look at her. A flow of pain soared inside her chest as she saw all the distress in his deep brown eyes. He looked lost and defeated. The rain watered his face, mixing his tears and the blood from a deep gash over his left eyes. As she held his face between her hands, she noticed the blood covering his shirt. His sight was still lost on the ground, unfocused.

"Booth, look at me!" she whispered, as she raised his head. She lowered her head, trying to connect their sight. Then, shyly, his eyes met hers.

"That's right Booth, look at me!" she said encouraging him.

"You can't reach him," threw wickedly the priest, "your words mean nothing to him now!"

"I don't need words," she cut, as their eyes locked. She saw him slowly acknowledging her presence.

"B... Bones," he muttered, uncertain, "But... You're dead..." his voice trailed off.

The words stayed stuck in her throat as she understood what they did to him. They made him think she died, probably in his arms as she recalled the blood on his shirt. She realized, she was his weakness. A lump formed in her throat. They hurt him by using her. She felt her anger rising inside her. How they dare to use their feelings against each other.

She saw the sadness in his eyes, unwilling to rest on her face. He was afraid if he looked for too long she would vanish again, scared that she was just a dream, a fantasy he had created.

Slowly, his fingers reached for her cheek. He stopped only few inches from her skin. He swallowed. His eyes lost in his fear of losing her one more time.

Seeing his despair, Brennan took his hand and pressed it on her cheek. His fingers were cold and shaking on her skin.

"I'm here Booth! Everything is going to be okay!" she said, with a comforting voice.

Then, as she had broken his barrier, he let her pulled him into her embrace. She felt his cold body trembling in her arms. She was so afraid to lose him, she didn't notice how strongly she was squeezing him until she felt his ribs under her fingers and remembered his bad condition.

"Bones... I thought..." he said, with a trembling voice.

"I know," she cut, "It's okay now!" she said, as she stroke his back.

"I don't think so!" growled the priest behind them, as he charged to Brennan.

Grabbing her hair, he pulled her up and threw her violently to the ground. She collided with the ground, hands first, rubbing her skin on the small rocks laid in the grass.

The priest smirked as he watched her laying on the grass. She raised to her feet, her eyes darting with fury.

Her sight went to Booth who had turned to watch her. She met his eyes, but her heart sank in a nightmare as she noticed the emptiness of his eyes, like if he wasn't there, as if life had deserted him. He was probably thinking he had been dreaming as she had left his arms so quickly, leaving him alone with the coldness of the rain and the feeling everything had been another illusion to torture him.

God, she thought, even if she wasn't a believer, being pulled away from him had just made him retreat deeper in his mind, she realized. She felt her heart breaking, as she saw him wrap his arms around his legs, and started to rock again, his head buried between his arms.

"Booth" struggled her voice, "don't let go, Booth, I'm here!"

But it was too late, her voice couldn't reach him anymore as his mind was playing her death again and again. He didn't even feel the tears running down his cheeks as restless tremors started to run through his body.

She couldn't let him retreat, it was her partner, her friend, and sometimes she hoped even more. Stepping toward him, she felt a hand clung to her arm.

"You won't bring him back!" spilled the priest with anger, "It's too late for him, he's just an empty shell now!" he said, laughing evilly.

Then, he pulled her close to him. "And now it's your turn to really die this time," he added as he grabbed his already bloody knife and put it under her throat.

She could smell his awful stench, as he spoke to her. Fear invaded her mind, but not her reflex. Quickly, she elbowed him hardly, and felt the bones breaking under her blow. His screams confirmed her she had hurt him. Breaking from his grip, she turned to face him. Without leaving him the chance to recover, she kicked him strongly. Aiming to the knee, she felt the joint cracked as she pushed hard. The priest fell on the ground screaming, his knife dropped to the side.

"You shouldn't have touched him," she said, her voice stern, as she grabbed the knife in the grass.

Her fingers wet and covered with the blood from the knife clung around the slick handle. She breathed deeply, gathering her thoughts. She was angry, she hadn't felt like that since her parents abandoned her, and the man laying before her was responsible for the rage that flooded her veins. He had tried to take away her best friend, the only person with who she felt secure. The one who was always there to comfort her, to take her in his arms when life had been harsh with her. And now, he was in shock, alone and defenseless, and she hadn't been able to prevent this. She said she would be there for him, and she had failed him. She felt tears watering her eyes. The rain hadn't stopped, and now the soil was damped and muddy. Her shoes were heavier with each step she took toward the priest. With the knife in hand, she stopped two feet away from him.

"You don't deserve to live!" she stated coldly. "Booth is a good man! What you've done to him is beyond any punishment!" her voice was low, and cold, as her grip tightened to the handle.

She wanted to kill him, make him pay for what he did to her partner. Looking at her hand, she saw the blood on the blade being washed by the falling water, leaving the white shining steel underneath.

The priest saw her hesitation as she was staring at the blade in her hand. It was time to reverse the situation, he thought. Sliding his hand into his pocket, he felt his fingers closing to his other small knife. He had four of them. He had hoped to pin Booth to the ground with them but now, they've become as handy as they could in this kind of situation.

"You're not a killer, you won't kill me," he said to Brennan, trying to provoke her. Slowly, he raised to his feet, facing her, the knife carefully hidden in his back. He needed to get closer, then he would strike right through her heart. The thought made him feel dizzy. Killing her would be such an accomplishment for his master.

She watched him raising to his feet. The blade was still in her hand, yet she couldn't go for the kill. She remembered when she took her first life. She had to do it or the man would have killed Booth. She had just reacted. The shot had been short, and yet she could hear it echoing in her ears as they had returned to the Jeffersonian. She remembered the guilt, and her stomach heaving for the entire week, as she was disgusted by herself. Booth had supported her all along. He had been honest from the beginning as he told her the guilt would never go away, she had to live with it, and that he hoped she wouldn't have to face that choice another time. More than ever she had been able to understand his burden, but the cost had been insufferable. Taking someone's life wasn't without consequences.

She sighed, what would he think of her if he knew she was about to take that road again but willingly this time, for revenge . She swallowed, watching the priest in front of her.

Smiling, he saw the turmoil that invaded her mind. Now was the right time, he decided, as he jumped on her. He tossed her to the ground. The knife jerked from her hand. Then, he grabbed her hair, pinning her head into the mud. She couldn't see as her face was pushed deep into the damped dirt. She struggled to turn her head, and escape from the deadly grip of the priest. But the more she fought, the more she swallowed the muddy water. After several attempts to set herself free, she was unable to breathe, and her lungs burned. That's how she was going to die, she thought. Then, she felt her strength leaving her. Her arms going limp beside her, as small dots appeared in front of her.

The priest smiled, "No, not like that!" he shouted. Grabbing her neck, he turned her body roughly to face him. Her face was covered with mud. She gasped to spill the water that had invaded her lungs.

Pinning her throat with one hand, he sat heavily on her chest. He felt her body trembling under his legs. She was scared. His tongue ran through his lips. His dark evil eyes plunged in hers, enjoying her fear as she tried to get away from his grip. But he was too strong, his hand choking her. She tried to push him away but the rain had made all things slippery, and every time she thought she had a grip, her fingers slid against his chest.

She saw him lifting the blade in the air. Her thought went to Booth as she closed her eyes. She prayed he would forgive her to have let him down.

Then, she felt a warm liquid sliding on her chest. She opened her eyes, feeling it was weird she wasn't in pain. She looked at her chest. Bringing her fingers on it, she felt a warm slick liquid sticking them. It was blood. Looking at the priest over him, she saw his face contorted in pain. Then, her sight went to his chest where his hand rested. That's when she saw the blade between his fingers that she started to understand. Someone had stabbed him with so much strength that the blade had cut his lung through the fifth and sixth rib. He was now drowning in his own blood. She felt his grip on her throat loosening, and pushed him to the side. He didn't resist, dropping on his side. She cought several times, before staring at the man standing in the shadow. The rain was falling heavily from the left, making difficult for her savior to stand.

She saw his stance unsteady, swaying to the right, then he dropped into the mud.

Still coughing, she crawled to him. Her body was aching everywhere. Despite the pain she knew she had to hurry. If she was right, he was going to collapse into another shock thinking this was just another dream. And this time, he might not be able to wake up.

"Booth" she called, her voice covered by the fallen rain. She saw his form unmoving frozen in his thoughts. His sight was lost on the muddy ground. The rain falling on his face drew a small line the long of his cheekbone and finished in a small line of water dripping from his chin. His mouth was open like if he was about to speak but no word came out.

She wrapped her arms around him, hoping her warmth would make him realize it wasn't a dream.

"It's okay Booth, you can rest now" she said, as she caressed his stiffen neck, and pressed his face against her cheek.

She felt his body relaxing in her arms. His shallow breathing became steadier as the tremors running through his body weakened.

"Are you real?" he whispered afraid his voice would make her fade away. "I... wasn't sure... but I had to try... I couldn't lose you..."he said, stumbling on the words.

"Yes, it's me. I'm real," she stroke his back, as she was so happy to feel him alive, feel him against her. She buried her face in his neck as she started to feel her tears rolling down her cheeks.

After few minutes, his breathing became stronger as if he started to wake up, and she felt his arms around her tightening her with a new strength.

"Booth?" she asked uncertain.

"I'm fine, Bones. Don't worry." His voice seemed more determined than ever. "We are going to be okay!" he said as to reassure him as well.

She felt his hand running through her hair, as the other in her back held her firmly against him. She closed her eyes smiling, he was back.

"If I was you, I wouldn't make a promise I can't hold" said a sarcastic voice, behind them.

The priest was standing near the tree, supporting his weight on it.

"You can't kill me in this world! This..." he said, as he raised his hand covered with his blood, "it's just a scratch in the real world!" he started in a laugh.

"Bones" Booth whispered to her ear, "Do you remember what maman Anise gave us?"

She nodded slowly.

Then, in one motion, they turned to face the priest and their voices echoed in the rain, repeating the words that had been engraved with their blood.

At the start, the priest laughed at their maneuver. As if two unbelievers could use magic. Then, his stare changed as the rain turned into a giant storm. The wind increased shaking the tree. Rolling thunders echoed roughly.

"You can't!" stated the priest confused. "You have no power here! This can't be!" he yelled to the black sky.

"Watch us!" yelled Booth.

Then, a lightning struck the tree, cutting it in two. The shock tossed the priest ten feet away. His body dropped to the ground, smoke coming from his clothes. The tree started to burn. Waves of yellow light colored Booth and Brennan's face as they stared at each other. His gaze rested into her crystal blue eyes, as his charming smile appeared on his lips. She reacted immediately as her lips curved into a huge smile.

His head fell to her shoulder.

"You know..." his voice was tired, and yet she felt him smiling. "... For someone who doesn't believe, you've put a lot of faith in this," he said, teasing her. He had to show her he was okay, and teasing her was a good way to comfort her in this way.

"That's because I have faith in you," she answered, her cheek blushing.

"Well, isn't that cute couple still alive" growled a voice behind them.

Their sights jerked at the same time, searching where the voice was from. Looking in the direction of the priest, Booth saw his body laying into the mud. But, he thought, if it wasn't the priest who talked, who did? Fear gripped his stomach as he noticed a small silhouette heading toward them. As the man reached the burning tree, the light of the flames revealed his face to Booth and Brennan. An expression of fear mixed with surprise was visible in their eyes.

"Revenge is so sweet," said the man as his face turned into apparent joy.

* * *

I hoped you like this chapter, I tried to keep Brennan's point of view as factual as it can be, as she was dealing with the fact she was in a dream... a sooo irrational thought for her... LOL

Please review, and let me know what you thought of this chapter.


	15. a message from hell

**Author's note:** Thanks to all my reviewers and everyone who had put me on their alert list. Again, sorry for the delays. Let's just said that even when we plan things, that doesn't always go as we'd wished. But let's stick to the important... Here it's chapter 15, so I hope you'll enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

The wind blew hard on the swamp, making the rain lashing the ground and its visitors.

Brennan covered her face with one hand in an attempt to break the falling rain from slapping her. She glanced at Booth who hadn't moved since their enemy appeared. They were drenched from the rain and with the wind blowing, she felt the cold freezing her hands and body. He wasn't talking, but she was sure he was freezing like her. Even more, since he was already drenched when she found him. A small quiver ran through her wetted back as the memory racked her brain. She swallowed hard to make the lump in her throat disappeared.

As if Booth knew what she was thinking, his eyes connected with hers, a faint smile curving his lips. Always trying to make her feel better, she thought. Then, she noticed the tiredness behind the brown stare. She understood now how these dreams had devoured him a little more each day. She had been in this one for what seemed her few hours and her mind was already feeling restless. A strong feeling of admiration and sadness invaded her, as she acknowledged the fight he'd been through all these days. Yes, he was strong, she thought, and even if she wouldn't admit it in front of him, she admired his will and the courage it took him to face all of this alone. But now, he wouldn't have to face these mind games alone, she was here, and they will face that new opponent and win, she swore to herself.

She saw him blinking, as to check she wasn't disappearing like an illusion. Then, comforted, he turned a resolute face to their old enemy. She had recognized him the second the flames had enlightened his evil smile, and so did Booth. The same evil smile he was wearing when they arrested him for impaling his daughter, hoping to turn her into a zombie he would be able to control. This man was sick, she thought, and now he was after them. She quivered under his evil gaze.

The small man stepped before the flames. With the fire behind him, cutting his shape, he looked like a demon escaping from hell.

Putting his hand on the grass to support his weight, Booth raised to his feet. His knees screamed. The cold had numbed them, but the motion had awoken a sharp pain through his body. He hid a wince. He couldn't allow their enemy to see he felt beat. Besides, the shock to lose Brennan and see her again was like a confused never ending dream he hadn't really waked up from. He had told her he was fine cause, she needed to hear it, but the truth was slightly different. His mind was still trying to cope with the last events. Somehow, he was unable to say which thing was real and which was a lie. He sighed heavily, as his hands rested on his knees to allow him to catch his breath. But he would fight. He would protect her, he wouldn't fail her this time. Even if she was a dream. He stretched his back, as he raised his head. The pain soared from his aching muscles. At least, he thought, the pain would keep him awake. He stared at the man before him.

"What do you want from us?" asked Booth, still breathing hard.

The hougan's smile faded, "What I want?" his upper lip raised from the anger burning inside him, "I want you to suffer!" he said, angrily, "and I want her to witness your pain and suffering before I kill you! Like I suffered with my daughter! my sweet Eva," he spilled out.

"You're the one who killed her, Benoit" returned Booth. "You're sick!"

Benoit watched him with intensive fury behind his eyes, "I would have made her rise and she would have been at my side forever! But because of her," he said pointing his gaze to Brennan, "She won't come back, and so are you!" he said vomiting the words angrily, "But don't worry, I would take care of her after I have reaped your chest and offered her your heart!"

Booth froze. From the beginning the target was Brennan, to hurt her, and what the best way to get her involve by trying to kill him, after all they were partners. His anger rose.

"Don't think I'm gonna let you do that!" stated Booth, trying to sound confident. But he already felt sore and tired, and honestly he hoped his body wouldn't let him down.

Benoit smirked "I'm counting on it!"

Booth glanced at Brennan who had raised to stand beside him. She saw the idea behind his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"I'm not leaving," she stated, in a determined voice, "so don't ask!"

His lips closed on the words he was about to say. Softly, he stroke her arms. His sight longed in the depth of her crystal blue eyes. He knew she was strong, and that whatever he would say she wasn't going to leave. Deep down, it hurt him to know he could never protect her against her stubbornness. She wasn't a cop. Her place was in an office where she couldn't be hurt. Still, she desired this life. The same life she was about to risk for him. Even if he loved to have her beside him, he couldn't bare the idea of jeopardizing her life. He had already lost her twice this week, though it was in dreams, but the feeling, the pain had been very real to him. He stared at her, swallowing his fear. She had pulled her no more arguing face. Slowly, his eyes went down as he sighed heavily. He had no choice, he thought, they would fight together. Then, as a reflex he looked up connecting with her stare again.

"Be ready to utter it aloud!" he stated, all emotions buried behind his will to save her.

She nodded slowly.

Booth turned to Benoit, "You should have stayed in jail!"

The houngan smiled evilly, "do you think you can distract me? I know what you're planning!" He looked strangely at Brennan.

Suddenly, a gust of wind sent Booth and Brennan flying apart. They made a loud crack as they crashed heavily in the damped grass fifteen feet from each other, their body still rolling for few yards as they met the ground.

First, Booth thought he'd been knocked out by a giant hammer, or maybe just a normal one, he corrected, as his head rang loudly. He raised his chin from the mud, puffing. He could feel the water dripping from his face to the soil, and cooling his neck. His vision blurred, as he tried to sort out Brennan's location. He felt so tired, reminded him his aching muscles. Lifting his upper body with his hands deeply sunk into the muddy ground, he looked around him, seeking Brennan. His right shoulder cried out in pain. He dropped to his elbow folding his arm under his weight. The arm crushed under him increased the pain. Eyes shut, Booth breathed heavily. It was probably dislocated, he realized. Like if it was new, he thought.

Opening his eyes, he sought into the night for his partner. As they had been jerked far from the fire, it was hard to really see into this darkness. After blinking several times to adjust his vision, he finally spotted her body. She was laying, still in the grass, fifteen feet from him. Fear crossed his eyes, she wasn't moving.

"Bones," he yelled.

The fear that invaded him, gave him the strength to stand up. Rushing toward Brennan, his steps echoed in the wind with each splash. Suddenly, another burst of wind tossed him right back where he came from.

"What the..." he gasped, muffling his last words as his face impacted with the mud.

"I'm in control here, agent Booth" sneered Benoit. "Let's her wake up on her own, shall we! While this time, you and I can have some fun..." he smiled evilly to Booth.

The shock had been harsh. His ears were still buzzing, when Booth kneeled to catch his breath. He was soaked to the bones, and the cold rain was cooling a bit his body. The breeze made him quivered, as he snuggled his right arm against his chest. His eyes darted to his opponent, anger soaring. A thin red line of blood slid the long of his temple to his cheekbone. Slowly, he raised to his feet, keeping his right arm nestled on the side, his breath made a small cloud before his lips.

"Let her go!" he shouted, to overcome the complain of the wind. His voice was hoarse and sounded a bit too desperate for him, but that was all he had left. "Let her go..." he repeated, waiting to have Benoit's attention, then he resumed, "... And... I'll let you dispose of me..." said Booth, his voice trailed off, as his sight dropped to the ground.

He couldn't let her die, and he could feel his strength leaving him with each minute. Soon he wouldn't be able to rescue her from anything. The best choice to save her was to give his adversary what he wanted. In hope Benoit would spare her life, giving his life was a small price, he thought. He knew the houngan would try to kill her anyway, but at least he hoped his plan would buy them some time. His warm breath escaped in a small cloud before him. He stared at Benoit The man was showing a smile of victory.

He smirked, "But agent Booth, I'm already disposing of you!" he laughed, seeing despair in Booth's eyes.

It's all about revenge, thought Booth, as he realized how helpless was his situation.

"And I don't want to miss her face when she'll see you die," smirked the houngan.

Booth closed his eyes, the image of Brennan printed before him. He would save her, no matter what, he repeated to himself closing his hand into a fist. If it means he give his life for it, then he would, and if he had to kill that bastard, then the man was already dead. When Booth opened his eyes only his determination was visible behind his dark brown stare. It was a fight to death then.

He looked at Benoit, "Why don't you come and fight like a man to get a piece of me?" he spilled out, his good hand raised in the air to provoke the houngan.

"I'm no man, agent Booth!"

On these words, Booth felt his body being lifted up into the air before he was tossed further from Brennan. He crashed heavily on his back. Now he was sure he had broken another couple of ribs. He winced as he rolled to his side, panting. Then, he stood up, shaking and swaying lightly as the wind pushed behind his back. He sought Brennan between the heavy rain and strolled toward her. He would reach her, he had decided, and he would make sure she was okay.

What! Thought Benoit, as he saw Booth crippling toward Brennan. He had put down that man three times, and he was still standing. How can he be standing after facing my powers, he wondered? He had assumed it would be easier to keep him down, and yet he was walking toward her. He bit his lips. Okay he had underestimated him, but this time he would really immobilize him for good. And then, he thought, a smile spreading on his face, he would toy with him, oh he would enjoy to make him suffer. Joining his hands to pray, his eyes darted at Booth who was almost next to Brennan.

Booth could see a part of her face resting in the wet grass, as an auburn wetted curl covered her eyes.

From the distance he was unable to see if she was breathing or not. Please god, let her be alive! he prayed mentally.

He was about to reach her when the wind increased, making his steps difficult. He almost had to bend to keep walking, and even so, his bare feet deepened slowly into the mud.

"Bones" he called out, his voice trying to break through the loud wind.

He brought his arm to protect his face from the splinters flying toward him.

The wind grew stronger as the houngan uttered his spell. His face turned into a grin as Booth was stuck five feet from Brennan, the force of the wind blocking his way to his partner.

Booth felt his frustration growing stronger as each step forward cost him to gain only inches. Then suddenly, his feet slipped, and he splashed heavily into the mud. His hand deepened into the muddy soil to the wrist to keep him from falling further. He cursed himself. Knees down, the wind pushed the water to him, forming a small pool around them and sucking him slowly into the mud. His shoulder was hurting like hell, and the wind didn't stop to blow in his ears noisily, confusing him. Snuggling carefully his right arm, he leant into the water and crawled on his side. He had to reach her, he thought. He had sworn to protect her, and he would.

At first, his crawling was so awkward he barely managed to really move. But he already got used to sneak in hostile fields in his old sniper time, so he started to go further after few attempts. Each time, his hand would get a grip on a tuft of grass to hold on while he would bring his legs to his chest and push on them to slid like a snake. The worst crawling snake I ever saw would have said his old sergeant Hacker. Yet, this method had got him closer to Brennan. He puffed, catching his breath.

"Bones" he called again, his heart pounded hard in his chest. He reached her hair, his fingers stroking them gently to get a reaction.

"Come on Temperance, wake up!"

He felt her head moving slowly under his palm, and at the same time the knot in his stomach relaxed, as she came to life.

"Booth..." she mumbled with a croaked voice, blinking. "What... happened?"

A smile curved his lips, as he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"It's okay,... You gonna be okay..." he repeated as he took her in his arms. Her body seemed so fragile, he realized. That thought almost scared him. He nestled her face against his good shoulder, stroking her back gently.

Her mind was spinning, as she felt her body shaking against him.

"You're gonna be fine," he repeated, almost whispering to himself, his voice filled with tremors. "I promise..."

Benoit watched them, his stare craving for revenge. Slowly, his lips began casting a new spell in the air.

"Bones..." Booth's voice dropped, as he tried to get a glimpse of her face. Between the turmoil of the rain, he discerned her face as she pulled away from his shoulder. The water ran along her auburn hair. In this ever lasting darkness that surrounded them, her bright eyes shone like a beacon toward him. Softly, he caressed her cheek, wiping the rain.

"Do you feel you can stand?" he asked worried.

She nodded slowly.

"Then, let's finish this," he told her.

Her intense blue eyes stared at him.

"The invocation, Temperance, let's do it one more time," he added.

Her eyes widened at the understanding of what he wanted to do. Of course, she thought, if it worked the first time, it should work with Benoit. But they needed to have the time to utter it, not like the first time. She turned to see the houngan preparing to cast his next spell. They had to be quick. Glancing at Booth, she caught his eyes darting angrily to Benoit. She realized she had never seen him so angry, though she recalled once in her car. That look was really making her to feel concerned about Booth.

"I'm ready," she said, her voice loud to overcome the whistling of the wind.

As their eyes connected, they started to utter the same words maman Anise had written for them few hours ago. But the wind blew harder with each second, and soon they couldn't hear the other talking even knowing they were one foot from each other. Finally, they shouted the words as they tried to overcome the wind. But it had turned into a small tornado heading toward them, and their words faded into the air. As the small whirlpool of water spun toward them, Booth saw Benoit drawing a shining object from his dress.

The houngan looked at the ceremonial blade, then turned to the tree which was now black as the rain had extinguished the fire that devoured it. Slowly, he walked backwards to take his distance with the tree. His lips moved rapidly. The tornado began to head toward the black tree.

Booth and Brennan watched helpless the tree being chopped off by the tornado. Small blackened splinters mixed with branches and roots parts flew in the air before being sucked inside the tornado.

Benoit smiled hugely at his deadly wind headed now toward his sworn enemies.

A cold feeling twisted Booth's gut. Turning to Brennan, he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped her in his arms. He knew how to protect her vitals points, he already did it once in the middle east. So he curved his chest as much as he could, trying to cover most of her upper body and pressed her face against his shoulder. She tried to get away from his grip, but his voice stopped her.

"Please, Temperance stay with me..." his voice pleaded.

She closed her eyes and let him embraced her. With a wince, he covered her hair with his weak arm before the tornado hit them. Her voice muffled by his shoulder, he didn't hear her calling his name as the whirlwind whacked them from the ground, tossing them in the air. Booth felt his muscles stiffening, waiting for the shock, for the inevitable fall that will ensue. But the houngan spilled guttural words and the tornado caught them before they hit the ground.

Inside the spinning wind, Booth and Brennan were jerked violently. Gasping, Booth gathered all his strength left. He held her body tightly close to him, as he fought against the wind that tried to take his partner away. But the fight was hard as splinters tore his t-shirt slashing his back and arms. The pain stung deep inside his bruised flesh. But all that matters to Booth were the precious thing he tried vainly to protect, and so the pain he was suffering was nothing compared to the pain of losing her again.

A large branch hit Brennan's back and his arm as well. His grip became uneasy, his arm was getting numb and his other shoulder cried to be release from the grip he had obliged her to take. He hoped his shoulder wouldn't give up soon.

Rapidly, they reached a dangerous height inside the wind. Everything was spinning around them. Sometimes he could hear Brennan's voice. They had nothing to hang on, making hard for them to find their bearings.

"Bones," he shouted, his voice lost inside the spinning darkness.

Far into this obscurity, he thought he heard his name. But the wind was too strong, not allowing his neck to move in another direction than the wind was forcing onto him. Yet he managed to stretch enough to catch a glimpse of her face. She looked scared but resolute.

"Hold on to me!" he screamed.

Slowly, he felt her hands sliding from his chest to his back. Her grip tightened around his waist. A small relieve rushed through him. Now he could let his bad hand let go of her head. His sighing was muffling by the sound of the wind as he left his right arm hanged loosely against his side.

Without leaving them any mercy the tornado started to spin more violently. As the speed increased, Booth realized the tornado's walls were beginning to blur into a thin real wall. They couldn't see anything beyond them. Suddenly, their tangled bodies jerked outside the tornado, leaving them flying in the black night. Booth turned to see where they were going to land. In the same time, he felt Brennan's arms squeezing him, ready for the impact. Taking a deep breath, he pressed her head against him in a protective way and waited for the crash, shutting his eyes.

But nothing came, instead he felt his back landing gently onto the wetted grass. Slowly, he opened his eyes, not believing they were in one peace. His sight met Brennan's. She was leaning over him, her crystal eyes shining at him. A rebel curl slid to her face, as she smiled.

"It's a dream, Booth," she whispered. Seeing his puzzled stare, she added, "we can control it, if we concentrate enough"

Booth smiled, she is brilliant, he thought. Guessing that sort of things in the middle of a nightmare... Well, that was his girl.

Then, like she appeared, the tornado vanished into the night. A bunch of splinters and branches fell with loud cracks on the ground.

Unwillingly, Booth let go Brennan as she stood up. Breathing heavily, he let his head falling backwards into the grass, his gaze lost in the black sky over them. He should have thought at that. If he had maybe, all the things that happened lately wouldn't have been. He sighed, trying to reduce the pain soaring from his back and shoulder. Brennan stared at him, laying in the grass. He looked beat. Then she noticed his face trying to hide a wince.

"Booth, you're okay?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"I'm fine, Bones," he let go in a tired voice.

His shoulder hurt like hell, his back was on fire and his head was about to explode, but actually he was fine, he thought. She was okay and unharmed, and right now, it was all that matters to him, so yes, he was okay. His eyes locked with hers. She nodded before giving him a hand to help him to stand. Gripping her helping hand, he raised to his feet. She noticed he had used his left hand, instead of the right which was unusual for a right handed like Booth. Then, she saw his arm hanging loosely on his side.

"Booth, what happened? Are you hurt?" she asked, pointing to his arm.

"It's okay Bones, it doesn't really hurt anymore" he said, lying.

"oh, how nice!" voiced Benoit "You two should talk more often, maybe you would finish telling the truth to each other!" he smirked.

Brennan stared at the houngan, then frowned and glanced at Booth. A long line appeared on Booth's forehead.

"Of course he's hurt," threw Benoit, "can't you see that!" he smiled evilly, "he's here for that!" his eyes locked with Brennan, "you took my girl, my only daughter!" he shouted, "and I'm gonna take the one thing you care about!" he said, raising his hands.

A gust of wind passed through Brennan and Booth, chilling them for a second before the rain started again.

"You are right about the dream doctor Brennan, you can do things here. But you're wrong with one thing..." his lips curved into a huge threatening smile, as he pointed to Booth, "He, on the other hand can't alter that world!"

His words cut like a cold blade inside Brennan's heart. They didn't give him any chance, she thought.

"Where would be the fun, if the prey could become the hunter?" smirked Benoit. He stared at her, smiling," Did you really think I got in such troubles just for him to have bad dreams! I would have thought you'd be smarter than that!"

Brennan felt her throat squeezed as a cold stab penetrated her stomach making her sick. They set them up, and till now Booth was the one paying the high price.

Booth grabbed her hand. He had felt the tension raising inside her, and this was not good at all, he thought. Benoit was trying to play with her mind like his bokor had done with him. He had to get her to focus, and mostly not think about him, as she wasn't going to like his plan.

"Bones, I don't think will have more than one shot..." he said, squeezing her hand, and glancing nervously at the houngan. "You'll invoke the spell while I distract him!"

"Booth no, it's too dangerous!" she said. "You can't...I"

"Look Bones," he cut, "we can't do it together. And if we don't do it quickly, he's going to spread us apart again and there're great chances he hurt us more. You know I'm right!" he said wincing. He breathed loudly, stroking his ribs. "... and I don't think I'll be able to stand another turn!" He sighed, locking his eyes into Brennan, "Temperance, trust me. It's the only way!"

She felt her eyes watering. She didn't want to lose him. And yet he was right. It was the most logical thing to do.

"Booth..."she began.

Gently, he put a finger on her lips, giving her his charming smile, even if it was a tired one. The rain dripping from his hair made him blink. She nodded slowly.

"Wait that I distracted him to utter the spell," he whispered to her ear.

"I will, "she said, worried.

Her eyes followed him, as Booth crippled away. With the rain drenching him, he seemed smaller, like he was bending under the weight of the world. She felt her heart being drowned into despair, as she realized he was ready to give his life if it means she'll live. She swore she won't let that happen. Then, she stared at the houngan, the man was making the branches flew into the air, but without a tornado this time. Her worries increased as she saw the wooden pieces flying toward Booth.

"Booth" she called, but he was too far, and the storm muffled her screams.

Yet, he glanced at her. His sight determined. Brennan realized the attack was what Booth expected when he told her that he was going to distract the houngan. So it was her turn to send this nightmare back into oblivion. She swallowed hardly, her throat was so dry. At first, the words she uttered sounded rough, but slowly her croaked voice gained more power, as she witnessed Booth's fight for survival. One of the branches had hit him in the stomach. And now he was bending dangerously, spilling blood. She had to hurry, she thought. She raised her voice, uttering the magical words to the black sky, but her eyes were still on Booth, not missing any of his moves as he tried to avoid another blow.

Slowly, he raised to look at Benoit. Even from the distance, she could see he could barely stand on his legs, and yet he was. Standing to face their enemy, wearing his gloomy but resolute gaze.

Benoit was still showing his dark smile, and yet it seemed his revenge face was starting to break. Anger rising beneath his features. Booth smiled. The houngan was probably thinking he could get him easily, but now he was starting to understand why he had survived so long in this world. His spirit was just too strong. Benoit was about to throw him another wave of wooden spikes when the sky over him broke open, revealing a white shining ray of light cutting between the black dark clouds. The rain stopped almost immediately.

A grin appeared on Benoit's face, as he raised his hands. One hand was pointing a knife to the sky. He laughed at Booth.

"You really thought you would hurt me like my bokor with such a spell!" his smile revealed his white sharpened teeth.

With an astounding crack, the sky tore apart under the force of a giant lightening. The light was so bright, Booth and Brennan had to close their eyes. But just before, Booth saw the lightening struck Benoit by the arm that held the knife.

Then, the silence wrapped them before a small rain started, the drops echoing in the swamp, like a light rain after a thunderstorm. When Brennan opened her eyes, the place where Benoit had been, was deserted. She looked at Booth, but didn't see him at first. A smile curved her lips, when she saw him kneeling in the grass. His right arm cuddled to the side, he looked very pale. She rushed at him, calling his name.

"Booth?"

She kneeled beside him and noticed the blood covering his left temple. Gently, she stroked his hair to check underneath for an open wound. A small shudder ran through Booth under her touch. She smiled, at least, he was alive, very sore but alive, she thought. She discovered a deep gash over his left eye.

"I think you're going to survive," she joked to relieve the tension that stiffened his muscles.

"Thanks! Doc" said Booth, as his gaze connected with her.

Then, she helped him to raise to his feet, and caught a glimpse of worry in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, feeling concerned.

Booth looked around nervous, "I don't know... A bad feeling" he said, uneasy.

He crossed her puzzled eyes. "Something Benoit said..." he paused, looking behind them, "we should go quickly."

"But we won, right?"

His worried gaze stopped on her, "I'm not so sure, Bones!"

A long silence followed his words, as she looked into the night.

"Let's go!" she said finally, supporting a tired Booth as he leant heavily on her shoulder. "We'll figure this lat..."

"I guess it's already too late, doctor Brennan" yelled Benoit in front of her.

Booth raised his head, turning his face to the houngan, anger burning in the depth of his eyes. Slowly, he pulled out from Brennan's arms, pushing her aside and rushed into Benoit.

It seemed his move destabilized Benoit, as he didn't expect any attack from Booth. Giving all he had left, Booth jumped, and smashed him down, emptying benoit's lungs and crushed him to the ground.

"I don't need magical powers to kick your ass," threw Booth, and on these words he punched him hard several times until his fist was no more than a bleeding hand. Then, the adrenaline that had sustained him dropped to zero. Booth let go the collar he was clenching on, and dropped to his knees.

Benoit was barely moving, his nose had taken a weird angle, and his face looked like an open wound.

"You..." mumbled the houngan, "...You... can not... win here," he said angrily. "You are in a world you can't understand. I'm the ruler of this dark place." He yelled with a nasal voice.

Booth sneered, "Sure you're the dark master of the black magic crap!"

Benoit looked at Booth, confusion in his eyes. He couldn't admit he had been beaten by a non believer. The lamb he had chosen to sacrifice couldn't defeat him. This was impossible. As Booth stood up, swaying, Benoit grabbed his knife and threw it to Booth.

Brennan saw the knife flying toward Booth, but her call came to late. And she assisted helpless, as the blade cut into Booth's right arm. She muffled a scream as she realized the blade hadn't touched anything lethal, as Booth had stepped aside quickly, avoiding the mortal knife. Wincing, he pulled it off his arm. Weighing the knife in his palm, his sight stopped on a terrified Benoit. In a quick motion, he tossed back the blade to the houngan. The knife cut deeply through his flesh, right into his left shoulder. The houngan screamed in pain.

Booth stared at him. "You really thought I was giving you my back like I trusted you," smirked Booth.

"You will all die!" yelled the houngan.

Booth turned to Brennan, ignoring Benoit. "Let's go!"

Benoit looked at Booth heading toward Brennan. No, he thought, anger burning inside his heart. He pulled a small dark ball from his pocket and put it in front of his face.

" daw lig tag wy oda feu noire," mumbled Benoit, blowing on the ball.

He knew he was losing his powers on this world. Then, if he couldn't win, at least he would make sure one of them would not bother him anymore.

Slowly, the night changed into daylight. Booth smiled, the houngan was losing his powers. The swamp started to blur, and a light white fog wrapped them. Brennan walked to a swaying Booth. She smiled as she reached him. Her eyes went quickly over him assessing his injuries, he noticed, smiling.

Then, Benoit's voice came from the mist.

"You were right, you shouldn't have turned your back on me, agent Booth!" growled the houngan.

A cold feeling invaded Booth as he turned to face Benoit. The houngan had disappeared surrounded by the fog. But Booth could hear his laughs. Through the white mist, a small black sphere appeared flying toward him. He tried to avoid it, but his legs had abandoned him, stuck in the heavy mud. The obscurity wrapped him with its wings as he fell on the ground struck by the sphere. He didn't hear Brennan screaming his name or either her warmth as she wrapped him in her arms, he only felt the cold and silent darkness that swallowed him.

She held him close, cuddling his head, rocking him as she weeped. It's a nightmare, she thought hopeless, an awful nightmare. Nestling her chin into his hair, she closed her eyes hoping she would wake up soon. Then, silently the white fog wrapped them both, as their bodies faded into a white shining mist.

The dream was no more.

ooooooo

Jerking from her seat, Brennan cried before she recognized where she was. The creamy walls, and the odor of coffee, brought back her memory. She was back at her apartment. She'd waked up. She smiled, hope in her eyes, as she turned to Booth next to her. He was lying, unmoving on the couch like they had never left her place. But her heart stopped as she saw the blood covering his left face, and the white tan of his skin.

* * *

As always, Reviews are greatly appreciated... so why wonder, just tell me what you think...lol


	16. remember me

**Author's note: **Sorry to have kept you in the dark after the last chapter, I haven't planned it, in fact I worked on that chapter this weekend, and it was almost finished by sunday, but I had to prepare for testing the day after and then I have another test on friday, a project to give that same day and another test saturday. I should really prepare for the remaining test, but since I was very late to update the last chapter, I tried to finish this one, kinda amend for it...

Hope you'll enjoy it.

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

The place was as cold as the first time she stood there. Glowing lights whitened the already pale faces of the people that rushed into the emergency room.

Pale, she thought, he was so pale when they arrived with the ambulance. She had tried to talk to him, made him aware she was there, but he hadn't reacted, laying on that white stretcher, his eyes closed.

Why does everything had to be so white, so pale when everything was going wrong, she wondered? She swallowed, but her throat was still dry. She should go to get something to drink told her mind. But her body refused to move. They said they'd come as soon as he was out of the ops. She couldn't leave. She had to know he was fine. Something in her mind told her she could be wrong, they could bare bad news. She shook her mind. Of course not, they couldn't. Booth was strong, he had overcome so many things since she met him. He couldn't... Tears stopped the words from coming.

A large medical door opened on the passage of a long stretcher pushed by two intern. A man in green scrubs followed them. The cortege headed to the lift, but the man in scrubs stopped before Brennan. All she could see were his white clean medical shoes, pointing to her.

Slowly, she took a deep breath, hoping it would stop her hands from shaking and raised her eyes to the surgeon. He looked so young.

"Are you the friend of agent Booth?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm his partner. How is he?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"Agent Booth is currently recovering in his room. We think he was unconscious when you brought him here because of some internal bleedings due to his late condition." the doctor paused, looking straight into Brennan's eyes. "It seems you happened to be very aware of his medical condition, is it right?"

"Yes," muffled Brennan, confused by the question.

"I know you're a doctor in your own field, but... " continued the young doctor. Then his face changed, as he seemed uncomfortable, "he shouldn't have walked around like it was a normal day..."

"I know" Brennan intervened, "actually, he didn't move from my apartment..." she said, thinking, "it's more the troubles that found us there, and..."

"I see" cut the surgeon, taking a paternal tone, "Just know that next time you run in whatever you deal with, he might not be as lucky as today, because he was very... very... lucky..." he said emphasizing the words. Soothing his voice, he resumed "... You may visit him, but don't stay too long, and doctor Brennan..." added the young doctor, as Brennan headed to Booth's room, "he can't leave these facilities... it would kill him."

ooooooo

His last words still echoed in her mind when she pushed the door of Booth's room. He was alive, she repeated to herself, it was close, but he was alive, and that was all that matters right now.

The place was dark. Only the medical apparatus were bringing a faint green light to the place, she noticed. Laying still in a medical bed, Booth's face looked very pale and sick. It's due to the greenish light, she told to herself, remember, he's going to be fine. But she couldn't help as her heart was still beating fast, ready to explode. Her lips moved to form his name, but the words stayed stuck in her throat as she noticed his deep sleep.

Slowly, she stepped next to his bed, noticing with hurt all the medical lines that were hooked in his arms. He had so many IV lines they had to sting them all along his arms. So many lines, she thought, so many things that held him to this life. With all these IV she couldn't even see his skin.

The faint bip of the heart monitor was the only thing to break the silence of the room. Softly, her gaze went from his bruised and bandaged chest to his tired features. His lips were slightly opened as if they had tried to speak but the sound refused to come out. Dark circles surrounded his eyes.

She breathed heavily, eyes closed. Would they one day wake up from this nightmare? Everything happens eventually, Booth had told her once when Sully left for his world trip. Was Booth going to abandon her as well, like everyone had done in her life? No, Booth wasn't like anyone she met. She trusted him. Maybe, he was right, maybe someday they'll have the chance to talk about... How could she think of that as he laid there unconscious? She stopped her mind from wondering, and stared at him.

Softly, her hand went to his bruised face. His forehead was burning, she found, as she put back a curl of brown hair revealing a white dressing. It was nicely put in place with white tape to cover the deep gash over his left eye. Without really thinking, she caressed his hair, her fingers going delicately through his dark brown hair. A small smile curved her lips, liking the feeling of his hair under her skin. A new idea grew in her mind, as she wondered if she wasn't somehow taking advantage of the situation. Then, her gaze longed on his tired features. He seemed more peaceful than when she entered, she noticed or was it her imagination? Maybe, her presence had soothed him somehow, the idea was pleasant in a way, she thought, and so she continued to stroke softly his hair. Encouraged by his face relaxing each time she fiddled a curl between her fingers, she started to talk to him. Alone with him in this gloomy room, it could be silly to talk, she thought. But somehow, inside she felt new, like if she had a powerful energy running in her veins.

A curl of her auburn hair, fell softly to his face as she bent to his ear.

"Get some rest Booth, you deserve it," she whispered in a soft breath.

Her face was now inches to his, and her cheek could feel the heat coming from him. She blushed as she was so close. Silently, she stepped back and sat on a chair near his bed. She spotted his hand half under the sheets. At least, the nurses had left in peace his hand as she couldn't see any IV plugged in. What would Booth do in her place, she thought? Sure, if she was in this bed, she wouldn't mind if he gave her a small signal of his presence, says holding her hand for instance. She smiled, of course Booth would hold her, somehow she felt he had always done that since she met him. So why was she so afraid to do the same for him? She had hugged him in the dream, and now she was wondering about holding his hand? She sighed, if he could hear her thoughts, then he would laugh, no doubt.

She looked at his face. His features were tensed again. Okay, she decided, we'll see.

As she approached her hand, she felt the tension in her back eased a bit. Clearly, she needed to feel him as much as he did, she thought. Pressing her palm against his, she was surprised to feel his hand so cold. With her other hand, she wrapped her precious link to him, feeling so grateful that he was there, that she could have the opportunity to share her warmth.

A small squeeze of her hand stunned her. Staring at their tangled hands, she saw his fingers moving slowly in an effort to hold her hand. A warm joy filled her chest as she realized, it was Booth's way to acknowledge her presence. She stared at his face, but he didn't seem to move. Slowly, she leant her head to the bed, next to his hand. This way she could see his fingers moving, and his face relaxing. She didn't know for how long she watched him like that, all she knew, was that she did feel belonging there, next to him. And therefore, when sleep claimed her, she didn't fight. No fight, because she was fine.

ooooooo

"Sweetie," whispered a voice near her shoulder. "Come on, wake up."

" th...What?...wh... Ange?" she mumbled in a hoarse voice. "What are you doing here?"

Even without the light on, Brennan had to blink several times before she could really identify her friends' features.

"Like if I could let my best friend and her knight in shining armor alone in a moment like this!" stated Angela, hands on her hips. "The FBI called, they wanted to talk to you." she paused a moment, "I guess since you didn't call anyone, the hospital must have called them to report about Booth," she said, her gaze was now on the sleeping agent.

Brennan blinked nervously at Angela's voice. She didn't want to wake up Booth, he needed this sleep, as he hadn't really had a good night sleep for weeks now. Stretching her body as she stood up, Brennan grabbed Angela's arm and pressed her friend to the exit.

The moment they closed the door, Angela hugged strongly Brennan.

"You scared me!" she said, her voice raising an octave.

She pulled back from her friend holding Brennan's shoulder, and took a long look at her tired features.

"Bren, I'm sorry!... but sweetie... you look like hell!"

" Kinda of been there," mumbled Brennan, her eyes dropping on the floor.

Angela's smile disappeared.

"How is Booth?"

"Shattered, but his doctor thinks he would be alright with a lot of rest," said Brennan her voice trailing off, as her eyes wandered to Booth's room.

Her thoughts went back to the nightmare, and the things Booth said before Benoit cast his last spell. He thought they hadn't beaten them. Deep inside, she hoped he was wrong. Because she didn't know how she would be able to face them without him.

"Sweetie," called for the third time Angela.

Brennan stared at her friend, "What?"

Angela frowned, "you need some rest too, honey." she stated. "I'm sure Hodgins wouldn't mind to drop you to your apartment. He's in the hall getting us some coffee."

"No Ange, I'm staying here. He needs me."

"Well, if you say so..."she said, smirking, "Are you sure you're not the one who needs him actually?" pushed her friend.

Angela smiled as she caught a confused sparkle in Brennan's eyes.

"No," returned Brennan, "I mean... we are partners, and that's what partners do for each other." she added, her voice low.

"Right, " said Angela, nodding slowly.

She broke her smile as she closed tightly her lips becoming serious.

"He would like you to go home and get some sleep," said Angela, "You know that, right?"

Brennan stayed silent, weighing her answer. Of course Booth would say something like that, that was so him, always protecting her, she thought. She avoided Angela's confident gaze. Her sight lost somewhere on the white wall of the corridor. Her mind wandered. If their enemies were alive, they wouldn't try something tonight. She glanced at her watch, 1:34 am, she had only arrived three hours ago with the ambulance. If they wanted to attack them, they wouldn't do a thing before at least noon. It meant Booth would be okay for tonight. She sighed, crossing Angela's stare.

"I..." she started, but was cut by an angry voice coming from behind Angela.

"What the hell happened?" voiced Cullen.

He was wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve green sweatshirt. His face was red and his features were the perfect example of someone you didn't want to rush in in a dark alley.

"I thought I told you to take him home," threw Cullen, giving Brennan a tired look. "I didn't know home meant hospital in squint language."

"We were home," said Brennan on the defensive.

Cullen sighed heavily, "Doctor Brennan, I know you care enough to lie for him, but I need to know which SOB did that to my agent!"

Brennan sighed too. "It's complicated."

"It's always when you're together, surprise me!" he stated.

Brennan sighed heavily. How could she explain something she even didn't believe in? Her eyes crossed Cullen's heavy stare. For a moment, she thought she noticed worries inside them, maybe.

She took a deep breath, "Someone tried to kill Booth... Actually, they're two of them, and they tried to do it in dream," she said, closing her eyes, picturing Cullen's face turning crimson, unbelieving her.

Now, he knows, she thought, and he's probably thinking I'm crazy. Damn, I have to be, to really admit this, she added for herself. When she opened her eyes, Cullen was staring at her, his mouth half open. Then, he closed it, thinking. He glanced at Booth's door. His sight went back slowly to Brennan.

"I knew,... you squints were crazy... but this!" he shouted. "You know doctor Brennan, for someone really smart, you are really stupid to think I'm gonna buy this! Damn it, Booth would have found a better excuse than this!" he said, angrily.

"That's because it's the truth!" threw Brennan, now she was angry too. How could he dare say she was lying? Who the hell did he think he was?

Brennan's lack of better argumentation froze Cullen's anger. He watched her silently, noticing for the first time the bruises on her face and the blood staining her shirt. Whatever happened, she took some, he thought. The exhaustion in her eyes was there to witness all the things she endured lately.

He sighed, taking a tired voice, "Sorry, but I need more than that doctor Brennan!" he said, as he moved his hand to his bold head, stroking it smoothly.

A long silence grew between them. From the distance, they could hear the nurses in their desk chatting about the last marvelous thing their kid had done. A phone rung, echoing in the corridor.

Brennan stared at Cullen, as the nurse stopped to answer the call.

"Okay people," Angela intervened , stepping between them. "What she said is true!" she added, pointing her finger on Cullen's chest, "Booth has been harassed by some kind of voodoo freaking priest. He cast a spell on him, giving him a hell of nightmares, and changing our tough guy into some Jell-O sleeping beauty!" she waited to see Cullen's reaction. As he wasn't moving, beside his slow rolling motion of his eyes, she decided to continue, "then, Booth finally decided to talk to Bren, and thank god, they were able to figure out what was happening, with a bit of my help though," she added with a smile. She glanced at Brennan, her friend was staring at her in complete admiration as she was able to describe a so complicated story into a five line article for newspaper.

Angela's gaze went back to Cullen, "Now if they're both here and still breathing, I guess their plan to confront Copperfield's dark version in a common dream worked. He probably got his ass kicked,... knowing our FBI guy!" she grinned at Brennan, winking. She waited for Cullen to speak.

" Copperfield?" asked Brennan, giving her a questioning look.

"It's okay honey, pop culture, nothing to worry about!" she said, pressing her hand on her friend's arm, like a mum comforting her child, "One day..." she said, smiling to her friend. Then she went back to Cullen.

"Oh come on," she voiced, exasperated "is the big FBI boss lost his tongue. I'm sorry if I hurt your beliefs, but that's true!"

He bit his lips, watching both women in front of him with intensity.

"Hot coffee," said Hodgins, as he handed them two white polystyrene cups steaming.

He glanced at Cullen, "Yeah man, it's true!" he threw without looking at Booth's superior.

"What?" voiced Cullen, his eyes darting to Hodgins.

"Hah,... the voodoo thing," said Hodgins, glancing at Angela and Brennan as he frowned, "you got the look, didn't they tell you?"

"Does every squint know about this story?" threw Cullen.

"Just Zack," threw Hodgins.

"Jack," cut Angela, her eyes commanding him to stop.

"It is true," Brennan intervened, with a low voice, "But I don't think we really kicked his ass."

As she deepened in Cullen's eyes, Jack and Angela stared at her, fear in their eyes.

"What do you mean honey?" asked Angela, feeling her stomach twisting inside her.

Brennan sighed, as the memories rushed back in her mind, the bokor,... Booth rocking and shaking under the rain thinking he'd lost her,... her in his arms waiting to die,... then Benoit throwing his black ball toward Booth... Then an image printed before her eyes, Booth lying in a hospital bed, medical apparatus plugged in every square of his skin. She felt tired and ready to give up. When she turned her gaze to Angela, life had disappeared from her eyes.

"We just stopped them Angela!... Booth thinks..." she swallowed, hearing his name in the same sentence where she talked about their enemies made the things so much real. Until now, she had hoped she would find something tangible, real to fight them, arrest them. and not some mojos, or spells she couldn't even begin to understand. But now she realized she didn't know the world she was facing, only Booth and his gut could overcome these bastards, she thought. "... He thinks,... we didn't defeat them in the dream."

Cullen let out a loud sigh, "Well, a dream! Can you tell me at least what they looked like?"

Brennan closed her eyes, picturing the first she met, the bokor as Benoit called him. She felt Angela's hand pressing her arm to comfort her.

"The first one was tall, about five eleven, tanned skin...I think I could get a sketch of him with Angela," said Brennan, as she opened her eyes. "As for the second, you'll find him under the name of Benoit. Booth and I were part of his arrest in New Orleans few years ago."

"Oh my god, " voiced Angela, putting her hand over her mouth, "Benoit, like in Benoit the one that try to make you think you skinned that poor doctor." she squeezed her lips, remembering the photos of the crime scene Brennan had shown her.

"Yes," said Brennan, her eyes lost on the floor. Every one thought she was crazy and guilty there, but not Booth. He had believed in her innocence right from the start, with no doubt in mind. That day she had thought he knew her better than she did herself. The way he protected her, and probably jeopardized his career. She never thought someone would go this far for her, and yet he proved her wrong, without asking anything in return. That was Booth. No, that's Booth, she corrected in her mind! He's alive. And he won't leave you, she added for herself.

Cullen's voice brought her back to the reality.

"I'm gonna find those bastards meanwhile I don't think there's much for you to do at the moment ," he said, his stare on Brennan's tired features.

Her eyes went to Booth's room, "I'll stay with him, if you need anyth..."

"Sweetie, remember what I said?... I wasn't joking! You need to rest or you gonna collapse on the floor, and we would have to stick you in a room alike Booth, and you won't be able to go see him!" she waited, looking softly at her friend, as tiredness slowly pulled her shoulders down. "Listen, if he wakes up I call you right away!"

"he won't," said a voice behind them.

A nurse pushing a tray on a cart with different boxes on it stared at them, "With what the doctor Eldman give to that man, he's not gonna wake up before dawn."

She looked at the small assembly, as she pushed the door to enter Booth's room, but stopped when she noticed their looks.

She turned to them, and frowned. "I'm sorry," she stared at Brennan, "you must be his wife."

"ho, huh... No" mumbled Brennan, "I'm his partner."

The nurse smiled as her look longed on Brennan's tired face, "Your partner..." she said, emphasizing the words, "... is under pain medication, and we gave him something to sleep, as we found the poor one was suffering of sleep deprivation."

She waited for the words to sink in Brennan's tired brain. "Meaning he won't wake up without you around if you're back at 8," smiled the nurse as she entered his room.

"See, sweetie," said Angela, " Go get some sleep, I'll stay with him, just in case. Like that, if you want to check on him, you'll just have to call me, okay?"

Brennan looked at her friend, defeated.

"I'm sure Booth's boss will have better news tomorrow, right?"

Cullen's eyes widened as he felt Angela's elbow in his ribs, "Sure I can pick you up tomorrow in my way to the hospital," he sighed, now he had a squint on his back, "I have to talk to Booth anyway."

"Fine," mumbled Brennan, "let me get my things," she pretended heading to Booth's room.

"Of course sweetie, Hodgins will wait for you, take your time," said Angela as her friend pushed the door.

"Take your time!" voiced Hodgins behind her, "what am I?... A slave!"

"Actually," said Angela, as she turned to him with a huge smile, "you're my slave!"

"Oh... I can be that kind of slave my sweet Callypso, for the rest of my life," returned Hodgins, his eyes sparkling.

Cullen rolled his eyes to the ceiling, wondering if anything was normal with those squints, as he walked away.

ooooooo

The light was still dimmed in Booth's room, noticed Brennan. She watched from the entrance as the nurse was checking Booth's monitor, a small flashlight lighting the paper where she reported the results.

"Come on in," said the nurse, "I'm leaving," she glanced at Brennan then at Booth, "He will be fine, darling, he's strong!"

"I know," admitted Brennan.

The nurse smiled as she passed before Brennan, pushing her cart. Few seconds later, the door shut slowly behind her, leaving Brennan alone with Booth.

Slowly, she stepped to his bed. Even if she knew he was under artificial sleep, as irrational as it was, she was afraid to wake him up. Softly, she slid her hand in his, her gaze stopped on his face. Her heart beating fast as she leant her face near his ear, stopping inches from his cheek.

"Sleep tight, Booth, I'll see you in the morning."

She felt a light squeezed of her hand that raised a smile on her face. She squeezed back his hand. Even in sleep, this man had found a way to make her feel better, she thought, how amazing.

Her rational mind told her it could be her voice that triggered some kind of reflexes in his arm, and yet she felt so good thinking otherwise, she'd just decided to ignore rationality for today. After all, she'd just spent an evening in an imaginary world.

Breaking the touch of his hand, she walked away her heart filled with hope.

ooooooo

The apartment was cold when she entered, so cold she thought without him. Slowly, she went into her room and dropped her things. She'll have to think to bring some clothes for Booth, even if he wasn't about to leave soon, he could have some use to it. Without thinking, her steps brought her into his room. His soothing scent floated in the air like he was beside her. Her sight wandered into the room, seeking his bag. She should be able to find something in it for him. Opening it, she thought twice before really starting to rummage in it. Her heart squeezed in her chest as she found a black sweatshirt. For a moment she closed her eyes, wondering if she wasn't intruding into his life. What right does she had to do that?

But holding his clothes was somehow soothing the pain inside her chest. She sighed heavily looking at his clothes. Quickly, she grabbed a pair of jeans, and put her findings on the bed. She hoped he would be fine. She was already regretting to be here, alone. She shouldn't have listened to Angela, being here without him was too hard. She should have stayed with him. The doctor might be wrong, they didn't know Booth, he could wake up sooner than expected. And if he does, she thought, what would happen if he wakes up and I'm not there? A terrible thought crossed her mind, what if he thinks he's still in the nightmare, alone, and that I'm dead?

She glanced at her watch. Almost forty minutes since she had left the hospital. It's not too late, she decided, pulling her phone from her paint's pocket and dialing Angela's number. She walked to the parlor. Her heart thumbed in her chest, echoing in her head, as she was waiting for her friend to answer. What if Booth, not finding her beside him, falls back in shock like in the nightmare. She froze as the image of Booth rocking and weeping hit her violently. She had to sit on the couch before her legs give up, as the painful memory racked her mind.

What if... if...

A tired voice pulled her out of her fears, "Brenn? What's go..."

"Is everything okay?" asked eagerly Brennan, not leaving the time for her friend to complete her sentence.

"Yes, but I'm sure you mean to ask if Booth had waked up. And the answer is no sweetie," said Angela, her tone sleepy and yet mixed with understanding.

The long tensed pain in her stomach slowly decreased as her friend's words sunk into her mind. He's still sleeping, she thought, thanking god or whoever was watching over him.

"The man is sleeping like a baby, so don't worry Brenn, I'll call you the second he wakes up, okay?"

Angela heard the small sigh exhaling from Brennan.

"Brenn?" tried again Angela.

"I'm here Ange... Sorry to have bothered you at this time... I just... " the words choked in her throat. How could she explain to her friend the fear that overwhelmed her a minute ago? She closed her eyes.

"... you wanted to be sure Booth was okay, I understand sweetie. It's totally normal to feel that way," she added, smile in her voice, "Specially with the close relationship you two have."

She was so tired, Brennan didn't even bother to reply her usual 'we're just partners' to Angela, though it was true they had a real and uncommon friendship.

Her head fell backwards, leaning on the couch.

"Try to have some sleep, Brenn, you'll need it tomorrow."

"... kay," whispered Brennan so low, that Angela barely heard it.

Dropping her cell phone on the side as her arm went limp, Brennan opened her eyes and wandered to the ceiling for sometimes. She felt her eyes starting to be wet. Quickly, she massaged her eyes before she really started to cry. Her hand went to the small bag she had kept under her shirt. The mojo didn't smell really appealing, but feeling it under her fingers soothed her throbbing mind. She took a deep breath before looking at the place her leg had obliged her to stop in.

Right in front of her, the coffee table was still covered of coffee cups, cookies she had won over Booth and among all, two piles of tossed cards. One of them was hers, the other belonged to Booth. She bit her lips. Reaching for his pile, she turned the cards upside down, revealing a king, followed by the queen, the jack, the ten and, wow she thought, the nine. She gaze at the cards before her, same color, all hearts. At the time, she had three jacks, and two insignificant cards to rely on them to win. And yet she won that final bet, taking the whole pot, winning the game. But as she stared at the cards, her heart started to ache. Slowly, her fingers ran along the jack of heart's feature. It reminded her of her hunky partner. Then, the dam inside her broke apart, and tears shed on her cheeks. She couldn't stop them, she tried, but it was too hard, not without him beside her. She was always strong when he was around. A long shiver soared through her body, turning into an unstoppable shaking. She was cold. Without him, it seemed to her she would never be warm again. She encircled her chest with her arms, and cuddled her legs close to her, as she slowly nestled in the couch.

"Why?" she muffled between her sobs, "why, Booth?... Why did you let me win?" she buried her face in her hand, her soul weeping more than her body.

Deep inside, she had the answer, she knew why he did let her win... She remembered she was worried and stressed , and winning that game over a tough adversary as Booth had given her some peace. No, he had given her that time off from her fears.  
Her eyes burned.

"Booth," his name choked in her throat.

Slowly, her aching brain gave up, her limbs relaxed, her sobs fading in the dark sleep that clouded her mind.

* * *

I know, sad,... fluffy, but she's down as deep as he is. Tough fight for our heroes...:)

I know I already said it, But feel free to review, I love it and if you feel up to, don't hesitate, go on, let me know what you think...


	17. hug me

**Author's note: **thanks to everyone who put me or my story on their alert list, and to all my supporting reviewers, and all of you who when you read raised my stats and boost my mind to write more and better.

So, here we go, it's chapter 17, I guess the longest of all...

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters... Well...

* * *

The acrid smell of antiseptic welcomed her as she walked in the corridor. She was used to real bad smells, but it never bothered her like this one. Her stomach heaved each time the stench invaded her lungs, leaving a taste of death on her tongue. She swallowed, trying to erase it, and continued to walk. Her steps were slow and uneasy as her thoughts intermingled in her mind. Her sight was lost on the bright white floor. Since she woke up this morning, she was on autopilot. She had lazily noticed the car in front of her apartment when Cullen picked her up. Mechanically, she mentioned it to him. His answer came quickly, and she recorded that he had sent a team to protect her in case the voodoo priest come for a little payback. She had nodded slowly and had turned her gaze to look outside. She didn't want to talk. Not to him, not to anyone. She just wanted to see him, see if he was okay.

So when she entered the hospital, she was glad Cullen left her to talk to Booth's doctor. And now she was heading to his room, her heart pounding fast in her chest. She was nervous, nervous to see him like a schoolgirl. Afraid if he was awake he could see she had cried all the night. And she didn't want to look like a damsel lost without his knight, even if inside, she did feel lost without him.

Loud voices surprised her as she turned the corner few rooms from her goal. Hodgins leaned on the wall, was arguing with Zack about the odds to have two voodoo freaking psychos here at D.C. So, she thought, the news had spread about the guys that tried to kill Booth.

"The use of magic is pure product of imagination," cut Zack, "Such a thing as magic can't exist. Physical laws can't be bent by someone's will. I'm sure agent Booth and Doctor Brennan were probably exposed to some kind of chemical that made them hallucinate."

She sighed heavily as she passed them not looking.

"Zack, Hodgins," she started as she continued to walk.

The two of them had started to walk beside her awkwardly, trying to catch her pace. Hodgins threw a glance at Zack, encouraging him to keep quiet. As she was walking ahead, they couldn't see her face, and that was fine with her. She didn't want to cross any worried looks, specially theirs. Because, she knew they would stare at her, worries painted on their faces. And right now, she had no strength to smile as if everything was okay. Nothing was okay. Booth laid in a hospital bed, beaten and restless. Their enemies were still alive somewhere preparing their revenge. And she..., well..., she had no idea how to protect him from them if they try to attack him once more in his dream. They did learn a lot about who and why they were trying to kill Booth and her. But it wasn't enough. If she didn't find quickly a way to put an end at this, well... She felt her heart near the explosion. She raised her chin as she stopped at Booth's door. She stared at it, not even looking at the two cops on guard.

"Is Angela in?" she managed to breathe out.

"Yes," answered laconically Hodgins. "We'll be in the hall." he added.

He grabbed Zack by the elbow, as the young anthropologist was eyeing Brennan like a discovery under his microscope, and pulled him out of his reverie.

"Thanks," Brennan muttered, without looking at them, as Hodgins pushed Zack before him.

"Come on, man! Let's go grab something to eat."

The cops stared at Brennan who hadn't moved, and was giving a hollow look at the door.

" Mam, if you want to go inside, you'll have to show us some ID of some kind and give us your name," asked nicely the cop on the right, as he caught her exhausted look.

"I'm..." she started, trying to gather some strength in her voice. She took a deep breath, "I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan, I'm the partner of agent Booth."

"oh," replied the cop, his mouth half opened, as he noticed her for the first time. A look of compassion crossed his eyes, "we didn't know, sorry mam," he added, as he stepped aside, leaving her the way in.

Nodding slowly to the cop, she pushed the door, stepping inside.

This time, the room was bright and shiny as someone had opened the blinds, letting the daylight flood the room. Sat in a small chair, Angela turned to see who had entered. She closed the book she was reading, and left the chair beside Booth's bed, as she headed toward her friend. She immediately noticed the exhaustion in her red swollen eyes.

"Sweetie," she whispered, hugging Brennan.

Her friend didn't resist, dropping her small composure as Angela stroke her back.

"He didn't wake up yet. The nurses said the drugs should have worn off by now."

She pulled back as Brennan moved to get free from her arms.

"Bren, Maman Anise visited me one hour ago. I guess she must have kept an eye on you guys." she winked.

"Ange, I..." started Brennan, her sight wandered shyly to Booth.

"I know sweetie, but it's important. She gave me something for you. She said it should protect you for what you gonna face."

"face..." cut Brennan.

"Yeah, don't ask!" said Angela, shoving the idea with her hand. "She just told me you will know what to do with this," she pulled from her paints a small square ceramic medal and put it in Brennan's hand.

Then, she hugged her friend strongly before heading to the door.

"I leave him to you," she said, as she turned to Brennan, her eyes pointing at Booth with an encouraging smile.

Alone in this so silent room, Brennan stared at Booth, laid in the bed, unmoving. It was so not like him to be so still. She had always known him in motion or talking. And this...was... wrong...Her heart squeezed in her chest. She breathed deeply, staring at his pale face.

As the sun rose, it bathed his tired features in an ocher light. He seemed younger and more relax than last night, she thought. His chest was rising slowly in rhythm with the beeps of the cardiac monitor. She stepped to his bed and resisted the urge of hugging him. She would only manage to hurt him more. So she opted for sitting in silence. Gently, she cuddled his hand in hers. His skin was cold, too cold for someone so warm as Booth. Tangling her fingers in his, she closed her eyes and waited for a signal.

Few minutes later, she was starting to doze off when she felt it. A small squeeze at first, very slight and faint, then gazing at him, she noticed his eyes were twitching a little.

"Booth" she said, happiness in her voice.

"It's me, it's Temperance!" she said, eagerly. "It's Bones! Can you hear me? Booth?" she wanted so much to feel his dark brown stare on her, she didn't notice she was squeezing strongly his hand.

A heavy veil weighted over his eyes. They were too heavy to open. Where was he? Another dream? Why everything was so dark? He tried to speak, but his lips were numb, and only a faint growl came from his mouth. A distant voice was calling him. He knew that voice. Inside his haze, he noted one word, 'Bones'. That word had meaning for him, it was like if it was a part of his life. No, not a part, his life... Slowly, the web that trapped his thoughts started to fade. The voice became stronger, louder, pounding in his ears like an echo of his life. The call urged him to do something, something important. He tried to remember but the memory slipped from his thoughts. He tried to move, but his hands refused to obey him, and a sharp pain soared through his lungs. He was tired, so tired, why can't he just rests for a while? Everything was hurting! Was it his world now? He felt his mind wandered in the darkness looking for a light. All he wanted, was for the pain to go away. But the anxious voice was still there. Encouraging him to open his eyes. Something warm and soothing was caressing the back of his hand, and slowly the pain lessened in his body. The voice was still calling him, urging him.

"Can you hear me Booth?" tried again Brennan. She had seen him struggling to open his eyes, and it broke her heart to witness all his efforts to wake up. "It's okay Booth, I'm right here, I'll stay with you!" she whispered to his ear as she had come closer to his face.

Her warm breath tickled his cheek. His eyes twitched again, then slowly, he managed to open one. At first his vision was blurred and too bright. Blinking, he saw an auburn shape facing him. Then the shape changed slowly into a face he knew very well. Now he could see her,... see her smiling at him.

"Bones," he mumbled, giving a faint smile. His voice was hoarse as his throat was too dry and his lips was a bit stuck.

He looked at her, his tired eyes connecting with hers. She smiled.

"Booth," his name echoed in her head like a magic word. It was so good to pronounce it without feeling sad. "How do you feel?"

His words came out faintly, "fine, now..." he breathed out.

She bit her lips, "Well, you scared Angela."

She caught a small sparkle between the mist inside his eyes.

"But not you..." he teased her, in a slurring voice.

"I was... worried," she muffled in a small voice, the pounding in her chest was starting to slow down.

"I'm sorry," he whispered tiredly.

She locked her eyes in his, not talking. His stare gazed at her for a moment. He had missed her crystal blue eyes watching him with so much intensity. But he didn't like to see the reddish circles around them. She had cried, he noticed. She never cried. She caught his sorry stare as his sight went to her neck. Her throat had started to bruise where the bokor had choked her, leaving purple red spots.

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Don't!" she sighed, giving him a warm gaze, "it's not your fault Booth. We didn't know."

He swallowed, trying to water his lips. But before he had time to talk, Brennan had brought a glass of water with a straw she had found on the nightstand.

"Hey," she said, "try this."

Sliding her hand behind his neck to raise his head, she helped him to drink.

As he sipped from the glass, the cold liquid watered his dry mouth, soothing the burning pain in his throat.

"Thanks," he said, as he let go the straw, and let his head fall back to the pillow.

"You're welcome," she replied with a huge smile as she removed her hand softly, caressing his neck in the process.

Their eyes connected, savoring the peace of this moment. Then, Booth started to twitch in the bed, as he tried to take a sitting position.

He breathed heavily, "Can you..." he pushed on his left elbow, "... help me?" he puffed, trying to sit and failing lamentably. His limbs were still numbed, as the sleeping drug hadn't totally disappeared.

She took the remote near the bed, and pressed on the button. Suddenly, the head of the bed started to raise slowly in a mechanical noise. Then, she stopped the bed halfway to a sitting position. Allowing Booth to have a better view of the room. The sun shone on his face, making him blink. He smiled, thinking at his partner.

"Well, you do know how to use a remote after all," he teased.

"Yes, and I do know how to use the down button as well," she replied on the same tone.

He chuckled but stopped quickly, as the tremors had woken the pain in his ribs.

"Booth" asked Brennan, giving him a concerned look as she saw him wincing.

"I'm fine," he gasped, closing his eyes, "... just need to rest," he added, stumbling on the words and deepening his head in the pillow.

Focusing on his breathing, he slowly opened his eyes and met Brennan's deep concerned stare.

"I'm okay, Bones... Really," he added, giving her a small smile.

"Maybe you should rest, I'll come back later," she stated, stepping back and turning to the door.

"Wait! What happened last night?... I mean after the mist, I don't really remember."

She turned to look at him, reluctant to answer.

"Is he dead?" he said, hoping for a yes, and that she would stay a bit longer with him.

She sighed loudly, "I don't know." she stepped beside the bed. "I woke up on the couch, and you were..." she took a deep breath, avoiding his stare. She didn't want him to know the pain she felt when she discovered him. He had enough already to deal with, without having to use energy with her complains.

"Temperance..." he whispered, his hand went to cuddle her chin. He smiled at the contact of her soft skin. Locking his eyes in hers, he swallowed. He wanted to take her in his arms, comfort her. But she wasn't ready to make the first step, he thought, then if she's not, I will have to do it.

"I need a hug..." he said, his voice tired, and his eyes getting heavier.

The pain in her crystal blue eyes deepened in his brown tired stare. She needed it too, she thought, but... Her thoughts swirled in her mind. Then, as if her barrier had cracked, she leaned to the side of bed and hugged him. She made sure she was really careful when she embraced him, avoiding to squeeze him too tight and hurt his ribs and shoulder more. She snuggled in his arms, her face turned to his pillow. She could feel his warm cheek against her skin. His masculine scent invaded her lungs, and slowly she felt her muscles relaxing in the rhythm of his rising chest. She smiled when she sensed him giving up the tension as well. His good hand stroked her back softly. He felt his eyelids dropping slowly.

"Thanks," she muttered to his ear, as she nestled her face in his neck.

His eyes were closed, but he heard it.

They appreciated the moment for sometimes until she felt his hand sliding slowly to rest on the bed. She broke the embrace, scared something had happened. But she found him asleep, his mouth lazily opened. She gazed at his sleeping features. Once again, she was down, and although he was beat and weak he had found a way to make her feel better. She stroked his hair without noticing it, smiling tiredly.

Then, her thoughts went back to the object Maman Anise had charged Angela to give to her. The small piece of ceramic heated her palm. Looking at it closely, she noticed several symbols engraved in it, but she didn't recognize any of them. Standing up, she gave him a last smile, as she slid the object in his hand, and closed his fingers on it. She caressed his cheek saying a silent goodbye and walked to the door, a new energy flooding her veins.

ooooooo

As Brennan closed the door silently, she glanced at the corridor empty, though the cops were still standing there, guarding the door. Without really looking, she passed between them, heading to the hall.

"Doctor Brennan," asked Cullen, as she entered the hall.

She looked at them, her tired eyes inviting him to continue.

"How is he?", said Cullen, with a worried stare.

"Exhausted," she sighed, "he's asleep now. You'll have to try to talk to him later," she stated, not wanting to argue about it.

"Did you find something else?" she asked, looking at Hodgins and Angela in hope.

Both had stood up from the bench when she entered the hall. Hodgins glanced sadly at Angela before locking his eyes in Brennan's.

"Zack found some residue we haven't identified yet..."

"Then, why are you here?" cut coldly Brennan, "You should be trying to find what it is! We can't afford to spend more times in petty conversation." she said her voice getting louder.

"Sweetie, we are all doing our best."

"But maybe it's not enough Ange..." she scolded sternly, her hands clenched into fists beside her.

"Bren, we are worried about Booth too! And you're tired. We are all tired," she sighed looking at everyone.

Their tired glares watched her as she stepped to face Brennan.

"It's okay to be scared, Brenn! And with what you've both been through your reaction is understanding... But believe us, we are all doing our best... We are his friends too you know!"

Brennan sighed, "I'm sorry."

Angela gave her a big smile. "Hey, don't worry! We know better." she winked at Brennan.

Brennan showed her small smile. "It's just frustrating, being here... And... "

"I know," stated Angela, "how do you think that I feel when you go wander in the field with Booth!" she smirked, teasing her friend.

Brennan shot her a big meaningful stare.

Cullen cleared his throat, and looked at Brennan, "my team had found our guy, Benoit!"

"where?" jumped immediately Brennan.

"Actually, he's held at Fairfax county Jail."

"But that's here, in Virginia!" she stared at Cullen, "how is it possible? I thought he would be judged in Louisiana!"

"It seemed his lawyer asked that he be judged in a court where the secte rouge couldn't be involved and in the same way to get him closer to his family because he was scared of something happen to them."

"What family?" she asked angrily, "he killed his own daughter!"

Cullen sighed, rubbing his bold head. "So I'm gonna see that bastard, and see how he'd managed to get out and back of his jail without being noticed ."

"I come!" Brennan exclaimed. Her eyes looked at Cullen, her strong resolution not inviting him to argue with her.

"Damn squints!" he stared at her. "I'm not Booth! You can come but you strictly follow what I said!"

"Sure!" answered quickly Brennan, not giving a lot of thoughts about it.

Hodgins shot a complicit look at Angela, knowing too well that Cullen didn't stand a chance against Brennan, even more a pissed off Brennan like the one he had in front of her.

Brennan glanced at Angela, "I have my cell phone. Call me when you have anything," then her eyes went back in the direction of Booth's room. A small ghost of pain dimmed her stare when she turned to Angela. "Can you... Stay with him, Ange?" her eyes begging her friend.

"That would be my pleasure sweetie," answered Angela as she smiled to her friend.

"We'll call," added Hodgins with a determined look.

With a faint smile at the corner of her lips, Brennan nodded to them and headed to the exit, followed by Cullen.

Angela glanced at Hodgins, "okay, I have an agent to watch over," she started to walk, then turned slowly to him, "Jack?"

"Yes," he said raising his eyes on her. Then he saw her worried look. "Things always get better baby. We have to hope."

She nodded slowly, not answering, and headed to Booth's room.

I hope you're right honey, thought Angela.

ooooooo

The metallic screech of the gate rolling on itself welcomed them. Brennan glared at the high walls where they were going in, as the giant grid opened. Cullen drove slowly the car to the visitor parking passing the main entrance of the Fairfax County Jail. The tires slipping a bit in the muddy ground as he turned to park the car.

Stopping the engine, he glanced at Brennan, "I do the talk, you're just here to observe."

She didn't answer, swallowing her thoughts. Like if she was going to let that bastard walking and breathing as if nothing happened, she thought, not looking at Cullen. The trip, even if it took them more than twenty minutes to get there, hadn't been enough to extinguish the fire that burned inside her. She was angry, and she wasn't going to be nice with Benoit, damn it! Because the guy just didn't deserve it, she thought. She got out of the car, shutting the door behind her and followed Cullen as she took a look around. Last time she went in a jail, she was there to identify the body of Howard Epps to finally discover he had escaped. Booth was with her. She sighed, she wouldn't admit it in front of him, but she missed him.

Cullen headed to a small dark green metal door and showed his ID to the camera on his right. A loud metallic tearing sound warned them the door was being unlocked. As the dark green door, creaked on his hinges, Cullen stepped inside. A humid and heavy stench of sweat bathed Brennan's face as she got inside. The artificial light enlightened grey walls, where white boards were hanging loosely.

A light blue uniform walked to Cullen, pointing at Brennan. "I need to check the ID of all visitors, sir! Who is she?"

Cullen glanced at Brennan, "It's the doctor Temperance Brennan, she worked in collaboration with us."

The guard nodded and stepped aside, "he's in the room four. Marty will come with you, sir."

Cullen nodded to the guard, and followed Marty, Brennan on his heels. After two grids and three corners, they arrived in front of room four. Behind the glass, Brennan recognized immediately Benoit. Even with his orange suit and his hair shorter, he was the same she had met in Booth's dream. As he saw her behind the window, he shot her his evil smile, his eyes showing only anger. She tightened her hands into fists ignoring her fingernails deepening into her flesh, as she stepped inside the room.

ooooooo

Hodgins put his sample under his microscope, and peered at it. Frowning, he stepped back, and grabbed it before heading to Zack's lab.

"I found something!" he yelled as he rushed inside, "Zack?" he looked around seeking his young comrade.

"Why do you always have to yell?" sneered the young anthropologist, "I'm right here!" he said, as his head appeared from behind a large screen.

"Zack," repeated Hodgins, looking serious, "I think I got something!" he added with a smile.

"What is it?"

"It's a chemical... But I need you to find where it's from!"

"Why? You can do it!" cut coldly the young man.

"Because..." he tapped the back of Zack's head, "... it will be quicker, man!" he stated tiredly, taking the tone of the teacher that had given up on his student and had to start again to repeat his explanation. "And you do know time is not on your side, so get on it!"

"All right," shouted Zack, taking Hodgins' sample and putting it under his own microscope.

Hodgins sat near his friend, typing on the computer as he started to read all the names that the data base was giving him.

Twenty minutes later, it was Zack's turn to yell.

"I got it!"

"You do?"

"Yes," answered Zack, ignoring Hodgins' rhetorical comment. "It's an ingredient of cleaning product."

"What kind of product?"

"Detergents mainly, to clean plastic floors, bathrooms, clothes..."

"okay but is there any particularities?"

"I'd say only for collective purpose ... Like hospital, military facilities, penitentiary facilities..."

"You mean jail?" jumped Hodgins.

" Hu, yes, it might," then his eyes sparkled as he turned to Hodgins, "we have to check the files of all personal and prisoners and compare it to the DNA we have!" his voice raised an octave.

"Oh my man, I think we have something" smiled Hodgins, as he accessed another file on the computer.

ooooooo

She stepped inside the interrogation room, her eyes looking straight into Benoit who was sitting in front of a table, hands cuffed under it. She wasn't going to let him see her fear, she told to herself, the fear of losing her partner.

His look aimed coldly at her, "you finally find my home doctor Brennan" sneered Benoit, "It took you a while!"

"There was some traffic on the road," replied Cullen, not wanting to let Benoit lead the discussion. "So how's the commodities here?" he said, teasing Benoit. "Found yourself a girl?"

Benoit shot him an angry look.

"You are going to die for what you did to Booth!" cut Brennan, her voice full despising him. The anger rose inside her. Her eyes darted all the hate she had for him. "What you did..." her voice trailed off, as the memory of Booth in shock printed in her mind, "... You will pay for that!" she threw, angrily.

"I did nothing!" he smirked, "what proof do you have?" he glanced at Cullen, "So impulsive..." he said, talking about Brennan. He raised his victory smile at her, "truth is you have nothing doctor Brennan, nothing at all!" he locked his cold stare with her, "I did learn from the last time," he smiled hugely, revealing a row of white shining teeth.

A chill ran along her back, as he remembered her the Grinch. An old green demon from a movie Booth had convinced her to watch on a raining day while he was keeping Parker. Her eyes froze on him. He was right, she thought they had nothing. No tangible evidence, only her, witnessing what he did to Booth in a dream. This couldn't make the case, even she would not have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. Her muscles tensed under the frustration. She had to find something.

Come on Temperance think of something, she encouraged herself. What Booth would do if he was there? Provoke him, burst out the answer. Yes, but with what? She had nothing. She felt her shoulders dropped heavily. He couldn't win, this was unfair, her mind repeated, so unfair. Somehow, she knew her idea echoed in her head like a scared little girl, but she couldn't help thinking she was so helpless in this case. It was all about, magic and supernatural. It wasn't her field of expertise, and yet she had to find a way! As she was struggling with her thoughts, her cell phone rang.

She mechanically opened and stuck it on her ear.

"Brennan!"

"Doctor Brennan, it's Jack!" his voice was excited. Zack and I, found some particulates of ethylene-diamino-tetra-acetate, a component which are only use in industries. It's a class of synthetic, phosphate-alternative compounds used to reduce calcium and magnesium hardness in water. And it's also used to prevent bleaching agents from becoming active before they are immersed in water and as a foaming stabilizer."

Brennan eyebrows raised at the news, "I don't see how it helps! Did you find something to narrow it down?"

She heard him shifting on his sit, "yes we did, in fact, this agent is only found in special industrial detergent..." she heard him smile, " the point is, that it is found in detergent such as the one used in collective facilities, but only where they have the need of hard treatment, such as public facilities, like hospitals or jails. I think it's the link you needed."

He cleared his throat, "we did some research and found that one guard is missing since two weeks.." he paused, "the DNA test ran is conclusive, it's our victim! And he was working at the same jail you are right now!"

"Good job, Jack, "she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she glanced at an incredulous Cullen.

She closed her phone, before looking at Benoit with a cold determination.

"We have the evidence we need to link you to the murder!" she stated, even if she knew she needed more for the court, she wanted to provoke him. Booth would say it would help him to make mistakes.

Then, she turned to Cullen, "we need to search his cell!"

Impressed by the intense determination lurking in her eyes, he nodded and they both headed to the exit. Cullen asked to the guard to lead them to Benoit's cell as two guards were dragging him behind, his chains scraping with a metallic sound on the floor. As they stopped in front of his cell, a guard made a signal to the main controller, and the bars before them slid opened. Benoit's cell was stark, though three books were resting lazily on a small shelf, and his bed was pushed against the right wall.

"You'll find nothing!" he sneered.

Brennan glared at him, he's nervous she thought. She frowned, so he has something to hide, she thought. Wearing her white latex gloves, she started to lift his books, opening them. Then, she put them back as she had found nothing. Her gaze stopped on the small objects near the books. They looked like homemade ornament, but when she looked closer, she was able to see small voodoo symbols drew on it. Showing the small objects at Cullen, she said, "it looks like some kind of mojos." Seeing Cullen's eyebrows raised in a question, she explained. "It's a voodoo protection..." she turned to Benoit.

His stare had darkened, anger rising inside him. "you can't rummage in my things like that, you need a warrant or..."

Cullen scoffed, "No pal, you're in jail! We don't need anything!" the FBI director locked his eyes in Benoit's, boiling anger rising inside him, "But if I were you I'll shut the hell up before I start falling stupidly from the stairs!"

"I'm not falling from..." Benoit closed his mouth, swallowing as Cullen's threat sunk into his head.

Brennan smiled at Benoit's evident discomfort, good, she thought. He didn't deserve to be all right while Booth was lying in an hospital bed. Then, she turned her gaze looking at the place. The books, the mojos, the bed... If Booth was there he'll try to find something that wouldn't fit in the scene, she thought, like the bed, she noticed. It was neatly made and stuck to the corner of the wall. From her purse, she grabbed her blue flashlight, and lighted the floor. A wide blue stain shone in the middle of the cell.

"That's bloodstains!" she stated.

Cullen darted at Benoit, "who was it?"

Benoit smirked, "mine, people didn't like me very much here."

"I wonder why," sneered Brennan, " but there's too much blood to be from a beating!" she looked at him, "is it where you killed the guard?"

"What?" let escape the guard behind Benoit.

"The dismembered victim we found," began Brennan, "was a guard working in this jail, William Tomkin."

The guards behind Benoit glanced at each others, exchanging angry looks about their prisoner.

She frowned, her jaws tightening. "How did you manage to behead him, there's no knife, no..." she turned to the bed, as an idea popped in her mind.

Grabbing one side of the bed, she tugged him strongly to her. She turned around it, and examined the wall. Several lines appeared on the wall near the corner. As she pressed on them, she felt the bricks dislodged from the wall. Then, she grabbed a small blade she had in her purse all the time. Slowly, she slid the blade between the dislodged bricks, and pulled them out of the wall. After removing eight of them, she slid her arm in the hole probing the darkness with her fingers. At first, she just felt the humidity sticking to the wall, then she found a wet mushy pack. Pulling it out, she set her discovery on the floor. It was a mass of old orange prisoner's clothes gathered into a large bundle. Unwrapping the object, she heard the guard cursed in shock as she revealed the rotting head of their fellow comrade.

Brennan stood up, leaving her macabre discovery on the floor and stared at Benoit. "Be ready for the death row," she stated coldly.

"That doesn't mean anything!" growled Benoit, in a last attempt.

She was fed up of his superior stare. In a fast motion, she elbowed him in the left shoulder. A red stain appeared on his uniform at the place she hit him, as he let go a groan, dropping on his knees.

"This is the exact place where Booth stabbed you. I bet we will find the match with the cut of his arm," threw Brennan, with a smile of victory. "You are going to pay!" she added, bending over him, allowing her stare to connect with his.

Cullen raised an eyebrow, "I guess we have all we need, Benoit," he smirked, as he gestured to the guard to take him. Then, glanced at the guard, Marty that had accompanied them, "I want you to make sure this cell is secured until my experts and the one from the Jeffersonian come to swap everything! No one comes in! Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" answered Marty, before grabbing his walkie talkie to shout a bunch of orders.

As Benoit was taken by the guards, he glared at Brennan sneering.

"Why are you sneering?" asked Brennan.

"I've already won!" he said, smiling evilly. His dark eyes locked into Brennan's, "at last..." he paused, his icy eyes deepening into her as he started into a laugh, "... I'll have his soul!"

Brennan froze. A cold fear soared into her chest, as she swallowed. "Booth!" she whispered, as she rushed out of the cell in panic.

ooooooo

Looking up from her book, Angela smiled at the form laid on the bed. Since Brennan's departure, Booth had waked up once. He had asked for Brennan as soon as he had opened one eye. As she was telling him that she went with Cullen to check on things, he was already deeply asleep. Angela had gazed at him like a mother over her child, smiling. Then, she had turned her eyes back to her book.

Now that she was watching him sleeping again, she found him less impressive than the first time he had entered the Jeffersonian. She looked at the monitor where is heartbeat was materialized by a line going up and down. She blushed when she noticed, he had waked up again and was now staring at her, a little sparkle of the strong Booth lightening his eyes.

She smiled, "how long?"

"Long enough," he whispered, in a low voice. He shot her his charming smile.

"Do you need anything?" she asked, as she gave him a huge smile as well.

He blinked, then stared at her, before answering with a hoarse voice. "Where is Bones?" a worried line appearing on his forehead.

Angela sighed, "she went with Cullen, you know, checking things..." her voice trailed off, as his stare deepened in her eyes.

"Checking what things?" he asked, shifting in his bed. In result, he winced as he felt a cold twitching pain increasing in his side. The beeps of his heart monitor started to go faster, and Angela stared at him, nervous.

"There's no need to worry, Booth! She's with Cullen." she sighed as she saw Booth wasn't ready to calm down that easily. "she went to talk to Benoit."

She raised her hand before her mouth as Booth tried to sit up, his face showing signs of evident tearing pain running through his body. But she was quicker, and as he hadn't really healed, she pushed him back into the sheets. A line of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"Angela!" he whispered, frowning. Actually, he had tried to shout, but his voice had stayed in his throat. He breathed deeply, staring at the woman that was pinning him to his bed.

"No Booth!" she stated, "I let you go if you promise to stop doing stupid things, says kill yourself for example!" she voiced, her tone going up.

He nodded slowly, giving up. He was too weak to really argue with her, and he didn't want that she calls a nurse to put him back to sleep. No, he needed to have a clear mind.

She bit her lips, and stepped back. "Your guy, Benoit is in jail, here." she stopped waiting for a new outburst of her tough but too impulsive friend. But as Booth didn't move she resumed, "Hodgins called her to give her the link she needed to send him definitively to the electric chair."

Booth gave her a questioning look.

"The dismembered guy, the one with the leg you found, was a guard at the same jail than Benoit."

Comprehension appeared in Booth's eyes. "So, he was pulling the strings from his jail since the beginning!" he whistled faintly.

"Yes."

"Miss?" called a voice behind Angela.

She turned to look at the nurse who was standing in the entrance.

"We saw some dangerous reading on his heart monitor. It would be preferable, if you let him rest," said the nurse, inviting Angela to come with her.

An offended look appeared on the artist's face. "Sorry," she turned to Booth. "Bren will be back soon Booth." She shot him a smile. "She can't stay too far from you!" she smirked before leaving a bemused Booth staring at the ceiling.

Finally, cursed the man as he stared at the nurse who exited from Booth's room followed by another black haired woman. He peeped at the corridor by the door he had left ajar. Now, only the two cops remained standing between him and his goal, he noted, as an evil grin appeared on his face. With them it would be like playing children. He listened carefully as he heard footsteps walking down the stairs over him. Then, the steps faded away behind a door. He gasped. He had to be very careful, it wasn't the time to get caught.

Pulling a small red ball from his pocket, he stared at it smiling. Then, he started to grumble a prayer. The ball glowed in his palm with each word he pronounced. Finally, the ball started to fly. Closing his eyes, he focused on the ball and control it to fly to the ceiling. Opening them, he smiled as he saw the ball rolling toward the opening, and heading to the cops. Then the cursed ball stopped over them, still stuck on the ceiling, unnoticed.

"You can not see me!" he said distinctly, as the ball exploded over the cops. A faint mist, covered them before it vanished as fast as it came.

Strangely, none of them moved. Their sights still wandered in the corridor looking for any threat like if nothing happened. A long grin formed to the man's ears. It worked. Then, it was his chance. Opening the door, he stepped into the corridor, and passed between the cops without being stopped. He opened the door silently, and went inside. A dark smile curved his lips. Finally, he thought, it was going to be fun.

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Woa, I know, still cliffie, but only two more chapters to go.

As always, help yourself and review, that really makes my day!!


	18. death lurking at the corner

**Author's note**: Here we are, almost at the end of the story. One chapter (or maybe two) before the end. I worked on it my whole weekend, and finished to correct and rearrange it now, it's past midnight, it's late, so I hope I didn't forget anything. Hope you enjoy this chapter

**Warning: **be advise this chapter is a harsh one, ... Some violent references and actions from the characters... that explained the T rated of the story.

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters... Well...

* * *

The room was bathed in an orange light. His target didn't seem to have noticed him when he entered. Laid still on his bed, Booth had his eyes closed as he was deeply asleep. Good, thought the man, it will be easier. Walking carefully to not wake up his victim, the man looked at the heart monitor beeping with regularities. He smiled, soon he wouldn't need that anymore. Stopping next to the bed, he watched with an intense anger the FBI agent who was defenseless. Passing his hands inches over Booth, the man felt the energy coming through his soul.

He frowned as the energy was pushing him away. Waving one more time, he felt the strong power still resisting him. It's not going to be that easy, he thought, his will to live and fight his strong. His tongue went to his lips, thinking, as he rubbed his chin with one hand.

Then, a sudden sparkle lighted his dark stare. To sever the soul from the body, and capture it, he would have to perform the ritual. He breathed, the ceremony would take more time, but at the end, his master's revenge will be accomplished. He smiled, and for him, it would be more enjoyable than just ripping his heart out.

ooooooo

"Can't you go faster?" voiced Brennan in the car, her frustration evident in her voice.

Cullen didn't answer. The forensic anthropologist was scared that something could happen to her partner. The best choice was to just not stand in her way at the moment. Though he was too, concerned for his agent. So, he preferred to shut up as he stuck his cell phone to his ear, driving with one hand.

"It's Cullen," he said, when he heard the voice. "I'd like to know if anyone has entered Booth's room?"

He waited for several seconds, but it seemed an eternity to Brennan who was staring at him, fear in her eyes. Her hands shook lightly as she dialed on her cell phone as well.

"Okay," answered Cullen, "keep both eyes open! I have reasons to think someone's gonna try to kill him, so be ready!" he waited for the answer. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Brennan nervous stare darting at the road as she put her phone to her ear. "All right, I count on you!" he stated before hanging up.

He glanced at Brennan. "The cops standing guard have seen nobody," seeing that she wasn't answering, he continued his eyes on the road, "Booth is tough!" he said low.

"I know," she replied, "but he's strain. They hurt him in his dreams for almost two weeks, taking away his energy and strength. He's not at his best," a sad light crossed her eyes as painful memories arose in her mind. "... his wounds are deeper than what he'd let seen!"

"We'll be there in ten minutes at most," added Cullen hoping he was right.

"...Death can take you in ten seconds," she replied, trouble in her voice.

Cullen didn't reply. He had seen too many good men and women die in his life. He learnt the hard way that she was right.

"Angela!" yelled Brennan, as she finally got a response to her call, "I've been trying to call you for five minutes now! Where have you been? Is Booth okay?"

"Hold on sweetie, too many questions at the same time. What's going on?" replied her friend.

"Is Booth okay?" repeated Brennan, ignoring her friend.

"last time I saw him, he was fine!" replied her friend.

"Last time!" a cold hand gripped Brennan's heart. "You're not with him?"

"Actually, I was but the nurse kicked me out of his room. She thought it would be better for him to rest if ..."

"Angela," cut Brennan, a lump forming in her throat, "I asked you to stay with him..." she said angrily with a high-pitched voice.

"I'm on my way to check on him, Brenn, I'm sorry!" replied guiltily Angela, as she increased the speed of her pace. "Okay, I'm right in front of his door, " she added, two long minutes later.

Brennan heard the door opening, and a long, too long silence followed. "Brenn," whispered her friend, "I'm standing next to him, and he's fine."

Thank god, thought Brennan, really she could thank anyone if it could help him. She let her breath go, relieved.

"Now," said Angela's voice louder again as she probably had exited from his room to continue the talk, "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Brennan sighed. "Benoit said something about Booth..."

"What did he say honey?" asked Angela, suddenly nervous too.

"He said... That he will have Booth's soul!" she whispered.

"Honey..." Angela paused. She heard her friend breathing quickly, "Booth is fine. Now, are you gonna be here soon?"

Brennan glanced at Cullen, "less than ten minutes," she said, as she hung up.

Then she heard the engines roaring stronger as Cullen had stepped on it.

ooooooo

It was closed, he thought. Fortunately, he had heard her paces before she came inside and had the time to hide in the closet. He had listened as the black haired woman was talking to the phone and giving news about his victim. His sight glowered in the dark as he understood who was on the other side. The anthropologist, he deduced. Then, it meant she was aware of his plan, he'll have to hurry up if he wanted to achieve his mission. A large smile spread to his ears as the black haired woman exited from the room. He stepped out the closet and looked at the door. He walked to it and stuck his ear on it. Listening carefully, he heard the woman still talking, her voice fading as she walked away. Silently, his hand went to the locker, and he turned it. Then, he pulled from his pocket a thick black roll made of animal wax and coal.

Slowly, he began to draw some symbols on the back of the door. Looking at his drawings, he smiled as he drew three last small symbols resembling to the infinity, at the top, middle and bottom where the door and the wall met. Now, nobody would be able to pass that door as long as he was alive. Then, wearing a shark smile as he revealed his teeth, he turned to the man who was laying cozily in the bed, unaware of the predator stare on him.

Time for revenge, thought the man, stepping closer to Booth's bed. He turned his sight to the medical apparatus wondering if he should turn them off now. Well, he could, now that he had put a barrier at the entrance, nobody and nothing could come inside. But he liked being alone with his victim, and knowing agent Booth's friends were unaware of his presence as he was so close, was thrilling. He enjoyed the moment as he pulled from his pocket a long string.

Different things were hooked on it, two black feathers from a crow, fangs from crocodile and from bears, and human teeth his master had pulled out himself from his guard when he was alive. A satisfying feeling invaded his body as he recalled the first time he had touched this rosary of terror. When his master had given it to him, the rosary was still warm from the blood spread on it. Since the beginning he had hoped he would have to use this power. And now the time had come. He let go a moan of pleasure as both of his hands held the artifact over Booth's chest. Slowly, he slid the sheets to Booth's waist, revealing his bandaged and bruised chest. Even better, he thought, his victim was so deep asleep, he hadn't felt a thing. Well, he thought, let's see if he's still asleep after that. Following his thoughts, he set the dark artifact on Booth's chest, the whole rosary forming a wide circle of claws around his heart.

As soon as the thing had touched his skin, Booth felt a white sharp pain crushing and ensnaring his chest, emptying his lungs. His eyes shot open instantly as the pain deepened in his body.

"What the...?" he gasped under the awful pain.

An evil smiling face was staring at him with avid contempt.

"Finally," shot the bokor, "You're a man difficult to wake up!"

No, thought Booth, anger and fear gripping his body, it had to be a dream! I killed him, I remember, I killed him.

As if the bokor could read his thoughts, he answered, "You did hurt me, yes, but it was your nightmare, not mine. None of what you could have done, would have definitely killed me."

He lifted his shirt, showing the ribs where Booth had plunged the knife. Only, a small scar was visible.

Trying to get away from his bed, Booth realized with terror that he couldn't. His chest was crushed by something so heavy, he could barely breathe. Pressing his chin to his chest, he distinguished some kind of necklace put on his chest. Is that some kind of spell, he thought? Cause if it was, then it really works like hell.

The bokor stepped to stand by the foot of the bed. His hands joined in a prayer stance, he mumbled guttural and indistinct words. After he finished, he set on the table near the window a small painted urn. The urn was ornamented with two men facing each other, each of their hands facing ground and sky. Between them, a small dark ball floated in the air. A skull ruled over the men, gazing avidly at the ball.

As in a dream, Booth watched with horror the bokor pull out a long curved blade, and step toward him. An angry look passed in his eyes, as the bokor grabbed his right wrist, and pressed the blade against it. Tugging as hard as he could, Booth felt the iron grip pinning his arm on the bed. With his other hand, he snatched the bokor's shirt and tried to pull him. But his grasp was too weak, and he was unable to even shake the bokor from his stance.

The man smiled, glancing at Booth.

"It will only hurt for a second!" he said, laughing.

Then, cutting through the dressing around his wrist and deepening in the flesh, the blade traced a large wound in his flesh. His fingers still clawed to the bokor's vest, Booth screamed. His lungs were burning as he exhaled the rest of the air he had. But only a faint scream came from his throat. Tightening weakly his grip on the vest, the FBI agent tried once again to pull the bokor away.

In an arrogant move like if he was waving away a fly, the bokor wiped Booth's arm flying back to the sheets. Then, he turned his dark sight on the man lying in the bed.

"See, it didn't hurt that much!" sneered the bokor.

As he walked to go on the other side of the bed, blood poured from the wound the bokor had just made and dripped to the white sheets.

Booth blinked as he knew what was coming next. His temple hammered loudly, making him dizzy. No, he thought, ... his breathing becoming hard. In a last resort, as the bokor stepped closer, he punched him in the face with the remaining energy and from the small length his crushed chest allowed him. His fist collided with the jaw. The hit wasn't as strong as it used to be, though Booth let out a smile as a groan escaped from his enemy.

"Still have some energy inside,"scolded the bokor, surprise. He cuddled his chin rubbing the tender spot. "But not for long!" he added, as he wiped the blood from his knife on the side of the urn.

The blood disappeared, sucked in by the dark artifact. Almost immediately, a red smoke sipped from a tiny opening on the top of the urn and gathered to form a small reddish cloud. Floating in the air, the red cloud flew toward Booth and stopped over his face.

Angst in his eyes, Booth felt the cloud fall on him. His left hand raised to protect him, Booth assisted defenseless as the cloud passed his hand and invaded his mouth and nose. The red malignant smoke filled his lungs, scraping the flesh on its way in. Then, a long tremor ran through his muscles, shaking his body, exploding in his head. A thin line of blood escaped from the corner of his lips, as Booth spoke.

"Somebody..." he struggled to breathe out, as his eyes rolled on the side.

An intense cold gripped his body, and he felt his mind drifting away. His eyes followed the bokor as he grabbed his second arm and pinned it to the bed. Booth swallowed the lump in his throat, prepared for the next pain, as he couldn't move anymore.

A terrible smile ran on the bokor's lips as he caught the fear in Booth's eyes. He exhaled with joy.

"Let me explain what you may be feeling right now, agent Booth," sneered the bokor. "You see..." he said, pointing to the urn, "this urn is sucking your soul, that's why you may experience a little disorientation," he scolded. "There it's the infinite hell. Your soul will serve to nourish my master's powers for the rest of his time and beyond his death, " he smiled evilly "you'll be his slave for eternity..." he laughed.

Then tightening his grip on Booth's twitching wrist, he pressed the cold blade onto it and cut into the flesh. That second wound cut deep into the bone, leaving a flow of blood flooding the sheets. A long deep moan escaped from Booth's lips, as the precious liquid began to leak from his body. The bokor's hands became quickly slippery as he places Booth's wrist over his torso. Then he released his grip and left the wrist fell limply onto Booth's chest. Blood pouring from the wound, reddened the dark rosary and soaked the dressing tightening his ribs.

"That was just for fun,"added the bokor, "I don't need that much blood to suck your soul," he grinned with pleasure, "but this," he said, pointing at the necklace, "needed some connection."

Suddenly, Booth felt the pain in his body exploded as a small blue light rose from the center of his chest. Like a snake, the light crawled to the urn. He then realized that the thin blue light linking him now to the urn was nothing less than another trick to suck his soul. He would never have imagined in his worst nightmare than something like that could exist. And yet, this thing was taking him away, bit by bit, he could feel it, disorientation. That feeling of being in two places at the same time. Helpless, he witnessed his energy, his personality being dragged away by his enemy.

ooooooo

Heading to the hall, Angela Montenegro felt nervous. She shivered as a chill ran along her back. She didn't like it. This all voodoo stuff was too weird for her. Okay, she did believe in weird stuff already, but the thing about the soul, well she didn't feel very comfortable thinking about it. The thing had gone too far already, her favorite FBI agent pinned in his hospital bed, her rational friend freaking about soul suckers, and her here, rationalizing this to make her friend feel better. She sighed, how could she ever imagine all the trouble they had to go through just because Brennan took a small trip in New Orleans?

Arriving near the coffee machine, she pulled out a coin and slid it in the groove. The panel shone the never ending question about to make a choice. Yeah, she thought, life is all about making choices, small ones and some more difficult. Right now, choosing which kind of coffee she would take and if it was with sugar or milk wasn't really important, so she pressed on one button and waited.

She just couldn't stop having that nagging feeling of someone who can't remember something important, and yet knows that there's something to do. She sighed, as she grabbed the hot steaming cup and stared at the black liquid. Well, at least Booth was okay, she had checked on him, and soon Brennan would be there. Things should go better now that they would be all together. Speaking of it, she thought, maybe she could sneak in Booth's room to stay with him, it would surely reassure her to be with him. The guy kinda have a comforting presence, even when he was asleep. She smiled, he did have a real good influence on Brennan as well. Her friend wouldn't admit it, but she was sure the two had something strong going on. Something you could spell in four letters and last with it all your life. Her eyes sparkled as she pictured the day she had to spread them apart in front of the altar, in order for her to get married. Well, she didn't in fact, cause of a small wedding contract. She raised her eyes to the ceiling. But the blushing faces of her friends as they hugged each other, she wouldn't have missed that for anything in the world.

She looked around, seeking the nurse that had kicked her out of Booth's room few minutes ago. She wasn't at the phone or behind the help desk, nope. So, she decided to head to her friend's room. Walking slowly in the corridor, she was about to turn and face the cops when she heard an indistinct voice calling her name. Oh no, she thought, not the nurse. She turned on her heels, facing the owner of the voice and stared at two giant light blue eyes smiling at her. She let go her breath. So lost deep in her thoughts, she hadn't recognized Hodgins' voice. She smiled at those blue eyes she so often found delighting to get lost in them.

"Hey," he smiled back, "you didn't recognize me?"

"sorry, I guess I was lost in my thoughts," she confessed.

"You don't have too, baby," he said, taking the tone he used every time , he sensed her tired and in need of comfort. He put an arm around her shoulders, "How's our army guy?" he added, talking about Booth.

"He's fine, but I was going back to sit with him. He needs us around. " she glanced at him, hoping he wouldn't get mad at her for choosing to sit with Booth, although she hadn't spent a lot of time with him lately.

He smiled reassuringly, "oh my little fairy, go watch over our sleeping beauty, for I am going to sustain this hunky body," he said, his hands pointing at his chest casually.

She stared at him, her smile to her ear. Jack would never stop to surprise her, even in the worst moment he had the ability to make her smile. "you mean you're going to get coffee!" she translated.

He frowned, feigning hurt, "I believe I've just said that!" Turning on his heels, he headed to the hall leaving his almost wife craving for his return.

Her mood lighter than when she first entered this hospital, she strolled to Booth's room. She winked at the cops as she passed them and pushed the door, except that the door didn't open. She cursed, she had probably clenched the door behind her. Grabbing the handle, she pushed. The door didn't move.

"What's going on?" she voiced, looking at the cops, "did you lock the door?"

The cops looked at her surprise. "No mam!" answered the youngest. "You were the last one to exit this room!"

"So why is it, I can't open it?" she fumed, sensing her previous bad feeling coming back to hit her with more force.

This door was open when I came, she thought. The youngest cop gripped the handle and pushed the door which didn't move an inch. Pressing his shoulder against it, he felt his feet slipped on the floor as the door stay locked.

Fear grabbed Angela's heart. "Oh my god," she yelled, "Someone had probably locked the door behind me!" looking at the cops, she shouted, "You have to open this door, hurry!"

Both cops looked at each other as they stepped back from the door, taking their run-up. Then, with a nod to each other, they rushed to the door crashing loudly their shoulders on the strong wood. The door resisted at the banging and to the next, as the two cops started to bang again and again, hammering at the door.

ooooooo

His body was strain, his head was about to explode and his strength was leaving him. Everything around Booth had started to spin. Colors had changed, taking grey touches. The world so vivid before, was now becoming hollow and shapeless. A loud thud was beating in his head, as his blood soaking the sheets had started to drip on the floor, forming a small crimson pool under the bed.

In this incoherent nightmare, loud thumbing banged at the door. Gasping, Booth watched eagerly at the door, hoping his friend would arrive on time, cause he didn't feel he could hold on any longer. His eyelids were heavy, and keep his eyes open was a rough fight.

"Don't think about having some help!" growled the bokor, "my spell would forbid the passageway to any of your friend, even your lady scientist won't be able to go through my spell!" he sneered.

Booth's hope melted as he realized he was on his own. No one would come. He was alone. The blue light that linked him to the urn increased in density, and an image of total darkness printed before his eyes for a second. Exhausted and panting, he realized he'd been in and out the urn,... And for a second he was there, prisoner for eternity. He lifted his head from the pillow bathed in sweat. His hair stuck to his neck, line of sweats ran from his neck to his back as he tried to sit up panting.

The bokor laughed at the futile attempt of the agent at getting out of the grip of the dark rosary of terror. With the blood of his victim to nourish it, the artifact was stronger than ever. He sneered at Booth, there was no way the agent could move now. Once the rosary was set on the victim's chest, there was no turning back, the soul would definitely be severed from the body.

Groaning, Booth's features reddened under the effort, his muscles strained to their limits. In a gasp, his head fell backwards, crashing onto the pillow. His blinking eyes stared at the ceiling, as black dots invaded his vision. His will, his body, all of him was screaming to not give up yet, that there was a solution. But which one?

He thought at his partner. Bones would have found a way, he thought, she's so smart, she always knows. His eyelids shut, too heavy. Realizing he was dozing, Booth racked his mind, cursing himself to be so weak, as his eyes opened.

Before him, the bokor was smiling.

"Having a good time agent Booth?" smirked the dark man.

Booth swallowed and forced his lips into a smile, "never felt that good!" he replied in his cocky way.

The smile on the bokor's face faded at the reply. "Then, it is time to cut you definitely from this world!"replied angrily the bokor.

A small breath escaped Booth's lungs. He watched with fear as the bokor grabbed his already bloody knife and lifted it over his chest. It's the final strike, thought Booth. His mind wandered to Brennan, the woman he loved. He knew it now, but it was too late for both of them. Too late to tell her, too late to be with her. His eyes raised to the bloody blade over him, he swallowed as his muscles tensed waiting for the stab.

ooooooo

Temperance Brennan rushed in the hall, not even bothering at the suspicious looks the medical staff was eyeing at her. She had to see him. She needed to be with him. It was something she had never known before. That nagging feeling, she missed him. She turned one corner and almost collided wit a nurse. The poor woman watched stunned as the forensic anthropologist continued her run, not looking back. The nurse was used to crying and grieving people passing her with hollow eyes, and so she had always managed to avoid them, but this one. Well, she seemed in a pretty hurry. Maybe, she should warn the doctor Terence, head of this department about it. It could be related to one of his patient. Determined, she headed to his office. He would decide what was best.

Finally, thought Brennan, seeing the last corner. And then right, she thought and Booth's room would be there. Loud thumping, stopped her run as she approached the corner. Woman's yells and the sound of what, a fight, wondered Brennan, lead her to Booth's room.

All her strength abandoned her as she saw the cops that once were guarding Booth's door, banging, shoulders first, at that same door.

"Brenn," voiced Angela, as she spotted her friend in the middle of the corridor.

"What... what's going on Ange?" asked Brennan, but her heart already knew the answer as her friend spoke.

"The door seems to be locked from the inside... And we can't enter!"

Brennan felt tremors ran through her body , her hands shook as she approached the damn door. Think Temperance, think, she repeated to herself. Then, she turned to the cops, "did you try to shoot the locker?"

Both cops gave her surprise looks, "But if we do that, it might touch agent Booth!" warned the cop.

"And if you don't..." shouted Brennan, "he will die because we were unable to enter!"

Her unyielding logic got rid of the cops' resistance. Her heart stopped in her chest when she saw the cops pulling their gun from their holster and pointing it to the locker. She hoped she was right. That Booth wasn't right behind the door. She closed her eyes, as Cullen joined them his mouth wide opened and the cops fired.

Both shots hit the door, destroying the locker. Rushing at the door again, the cops bumped on it, falling backwards. Brennan opened her eyes, all hope vanished as she saw the door was still closed.

ooooooo

Booth sucked his breath as the shooting echoed in the room. The bokor wavered, the knife still in his hands, the blade threateningly hung over Booth's heart. His tired stare on the bokor, Booth clutched his fist, the pain from the cut soared into his arms and into his brain, jerking his eyes open. Good, he thought, stay awake Seel. Sweat bathed his body. I touched something, he realized. Opening his right hand, his fingers probed slowly the soaked and bloody sheets. Then again, he thought, as his fingers met the ceramic piece Brennan had left for him.

What is it? he wondered as he closed his fingers on the ceramic medal. The medal heated in his palm. The warmth slowly invaded his wrist and ran along his arm, sending him waves of energy. His eyes stuck on the bokor, he noted that he was still watching the door, probably wondering if his spell would really hold.

Maybe, it was his chance. His fingers closed tightly around the medal sent a shooting pain along his arm. Controlling his breath and the twinges that flooded his body, and with all the strength that remained in him, Booth threw his punch, aiming at the throat of his enemy.

The blow caught him in the throat. Surprise by this overturn, the blade fell loudly from his hands. A metallic sound echoed in the room, as it hit the floor. But the worst sound came from the bokor as he screamed from the burn inflicted by the medal on his skin.

Booth felt his arm fell back to the sheets, he had just gained few minutes at most. Breathing heavily, he felt the energy still running in his arm. Still able to move his hand as long as he was holding the medal, he managed to seize the rosary. As soon as his fingers touched the evil artifact, his skin boiled like he was holding hot iron. Resisting the urge to let go, he tightened his steaming fingers around the necklace, as he squeezed his jaw under the pain. His face reddened under his winces. In a last hope, he pulled on the necklace from his chest. The pain was excruciating as the dark rosary resisted. It was like it clung to his skin with sharp claws. Groaning, Booth felt the artifact slowly giving up. He felt his skin been scraped under the artifact as he pulled it away from his chest and sent it flying into the room and crashed against the door.

In the same motion and as he was able to move now, he rolled to his side and fell with a loud thud to the ground. In his move he took with him the bloody sheets and the medical apparatus whose lines were tangled up around him. Some IV lines were torn from his arms leaving gashes and more blood to flow from the fresh cuts.

Holding his burned throat, the bokor stared at his victim who had managed to survive. He was pissed off by that damn FBI agent, and still a smile appeared in the corner of his lips. Yes, his lamb was still alive, but it wasn't for long. He gazed at the blue smoky light that still soared from his victim and plunged in the urn. His soul was still belonging to his master.

Panting on the ground, Booth heard the bokor move behind him. He looked around him, seeking the medal that had given him back some strength, but he didn't see it. Despair wrapped his heart as he noticed the room was a mess and find something was like trying to find a needle in a hay sack. He swallowed trying to catch his breath. His heart was pounding fast in his chest, as his vision grayed. His palms on the floor, he tried to stand, taking support on his weak arms. But he only succeeded to raise his upper body half way. He was too exhausted and his legs were numbed. Weakly, he turned his head to look behind him, beads of sweat soaked his face and dripped on the floor.

The bokor was standing next to the bed and walked toward Booth who was supporting his body with difficulties. Wearing his shark stare, he kneeled next to the foot of the bed grabbing his knife.

Booth's stare glanced at the door, hoping his friend had found a way to open that damn door.

"They won't come, agent Booth, this door can't be open by physical tool!" growled the bokor, as one of his hand was still pressed on the burn on his throat.

Then he raised his knife into the air, and went to stab his victim in the back. But Booth's old ranger gut awoke, caught the knife inches from his heart as he had turned to present his chest. The knife was now trapped in the hands of both men. Booth's emotionless stare deepened into the eyes of his enemy as he twisted expertly the knife and aimed the blade to his opponent's throat.

In a last surge of consciousness the bokor realized he had made the mistake of going in a hand to hand fight with an army ranger. But that sudden realization didn't save him, as Booth, feeling his enemy's will fading under his determined stare, tried his luck and with a snap move, he deepened the knife into the neck of the bokor. The blade cut the skin and through the jugular, entering deeply his mouth and making him gaggling as the blood flowed from the wound and into his mouth.

"You're... in my world,... pal," Booth breathed out, releasing his grip.

The bokor dropped on his back, his eyes staring at Booth in shock. As he exhaled his last breath, the door cracked open on a feverish Brennan.

His last effort gave in the fight with his enemy, Booth raised his blurred stare to Brennan.

"Booth!" she yelled as her eyes connected into his hollow stare.

She's alive, he thought, as his hands gave out under him and his head fell into the bloody pool.

"Booth! No..." she squealed.

The scene before her could be excerpted from a horror movie. Blood spread everywhere, the sheets, the bed, the table. But what shocked her the most was the pool of blood formed under Booth. She hoped deeply it was not his blood, but a cold hand clenched at her heart as she noticed his pale skin. It seemed as he had been drained of all the precious liquid as his white skin contrasted terribly with the crimson color where his body laid.

"Booth" she whispered as she rushed to him.

With the speed, her feet slipped into the thick liquid, and she fell on her knees next to him. Fear gripped her chest as he wasn't moving. With tears in her eyes, she managed to turn him onto his back. He moaned softly as his read rolled limply to the side. Cuddling his limp head and chest into her arms she called his name with a strangled voice. Her forehead against his head, she felt the tears well up in her eyes and dripped to his face.

"Booth please, don't die on me! Please," she struggled, sobs in her voice. "Angela!" she called, as she tore a sheet. Grabbing his right wrist, she wrapped it strongly, pressuring hardly the cut.

Her friend froze under the amount of blood, but Brennan's tone shook her from her state, and she kneeled beside Booth as well, soaking her paints in his blood. On autopilot, she repeated the same motion as her friend did. She couldn't think, she was just moving as she wrapped Booth's left wrist and pressed her hands over the dressing to stop the bleeding. Her stunned stare crossed Brennan's frightened eyes.

"Brennan," she whispered.

Her friend ignored her, her eyes turned to her wounded partner. Staring at his pale and white features, she softly stroked his cheeks wiping her tears that had mixed with his blood.

His thoughts wandered as he heard his partner calling him, imploring him. He knew she was there beside him. He could feel her face nestled against him, her warm tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping on his face like a warm summer rain. He heard his heartbeat pounding in his chest like a countdown, pom-pom, pom-pom, pom-pom.

He knew she was afraid he was dying, but he couldn't help her anymore. He was too tired, the darkness had almost totally wrapped its wings around him. He could feel the cold inside him growing. Soon he would be gone, he could already feel it, the freezing taste of death. His heart pounded slower, pom--pom, pom--pom. But he couldn't resign his heart to let her go like that. He couldn't let her suffer. He gathered the last sparkle of life he had, just enough to be able to move his lips.

"Bones," he muttered faintly, almost indistinct, and yet he knew she heard him as her balmy breath warmed his face.

"Booth," she whispered, "hold on!" her eyes raised to her friends, pleading. She knew he had lost a great amount of blood. And even if her brain was already calculating his chances of survival due to the blood loss, her heart just didn't want to know. As irrational as it was she just wanted to hope. Life,... Booth's life couldn't become a number in her brain. He had always beaten the odds, she thought. He couldn't be reduced to a simple, cold number.

"The docs are on their way," said quickly Angela, as she turned to Cullen in the entrance.

"You're going to be okay Booth!" Brennan said, her strembling hands caressing his face.

"Temperance," he muffled, "remember your promise..."

"Booth, you're going to be fine, please hold on!"

"You've promised me Temperance," his voice slurred, "you've promised...".

His breathing slowed.

"I promise Booth, but you hold on, the doctors are here," she said, hope in her voice as two doctors rushed in, followed by a couple of nurses.

"Booth?" she asked fear in her voice, as he had stopped to talk, "Booth!"

"Mam," said one doctor, "let us take care of him," he added as he grabbed Booth's limp body by the shoulder and the other do the same with his feet. Lifting him, they laid him onto the bed.

He heard his heart pounding in his chest, slowly, pom--pom, pom--pom. The darkness was close now. He couldn't move, couldn't talk. His limbs were cold and numb. He listened as he felt hands all over him, probing. He wanted them to go away, he wanted to be left alone. He was tired, so tired. Then, a soft skin warmed his hand.

Brennan watched, as they propped up Booth onto the bed and stung captors on his chest and temples. A slow faint beep warned them he was still alive. One nurse stuck a needle in his arm, a bag filled with blood attached on the other side, while another pressed a breathing mask over his mouth and nose.

Stepping close to the bed, Brennan slid her hand in his. She couldn't let him go.

"Hold on Booth, please hold on!" she stroked his cheek softly.

He felt her soft touch from far away. His body was drifting away, floating on a gloomy ocean of loneliness. The pounding slowed again in his chest, pom-- pom, pom-- pom, pom--. Then nothing.

"He's going into cardiac arrest!" shouted one of the doctors.

One nurse pulled two electric pads as the other put paste on it. She rubbed the pads together and handled them to the doctor. Brennan let his hand goes, as the doctor pressed the pads on his chests, looking at the monitor.

"Ready,...shock!" he voiced.

Booth's body arched on the bed as the electricity ran through him. One beep echoed in the room as Booth fell back limply on the sheets, his arms hanging loosely on the side of the bed.

Brennan watched eagerly his heart monitor, but only to discover a flat line.

"Please, no," she pleaded, "don't die!"

The doctor pressed again the pad on his bruised chest.

"Ready,...shock!" he voiced again.

His body arched again, and fell back as fast as the first time. Two beeps echoed before one continuous shrill lasted in the room, freezing Brennan's heart.

Angela's put her hands over her mouth and turned to bury her face in Hodgins' shoulder as he had arrived short after the door had been opened.

"Again!" shouted the doctor to the nurse, "Ready,...shock!" his voice echoed in the room as Booth arched again under the pads.

Brennan felt her legs swaying, her vision blurred as tears welled up to her cheeks, and Booth fell heavily to the sheets, unmoving. No beeps, a long flat line glowed on the monitor. A faint buzz sounded in her head, as she felt her heart stop in her chest. No, repeated her mind, no... Not him...not now. She felt her chest crushed under an invisible weight.

"Give him a shot of epinephrine!" commanded the doctor to the nurses.

One nurse grabbed a syringe. Brennan watched helpless as the needle pierced his white skin, and the nurse injected the adrenaline in his blood. Pressing the electric pads on his skin again, the doctor shocked him one more time. Again, his body arched and fell back without moving. His arms slid limply from the sheets hanging loosely on the side of the bed and his head rolled to Brennan's side. She stared at his eyes, shut.

The doctor turned to the nurses, handling them the pads.

He crossed Brennan's terrified stare "I'm sorry," he said, his voice trailing off.

Then, the worst unbelievable words came out of his mouth, stabbing her heart.

"He's dead."

The world collapsed under her as her legs gave up. She dropped on the floor, her gaze staring at the arm hanging loosely from the bed.

* * *

**A/N: **for the hand to hand fight, I know Booth is in real weak shape, but as an army ranger he still got the moves and so that's how he can overcome an untrained bokor... One simple move to turn the attack...I think it's how we see what an expert really is!

My apologizes for the amount of blood, but it was necessary for the story, you'll see what I mean...

Review please, it helps...


	19. Hope is the last lover's act

**Author's note: **First, I'd like to thank all my reviewers, and everyone who read and make them known by increasing my stats. It kinda give me wings to write more and better. So, really thanks!

This should have been the last chapter, but it seems my fingers and my brain can't stop that story and need more, so here it is chapter 19, not the last... I added a song, which kinda reflects Brennan's mind in this situation.

I hope you enjoy this chapter...

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters... the song is "What if", by Coldplay and I don't it either.

* * *

..."He's dead."

The world collapsed under her as her legs gave up. She dropped on the floor, her gaze staring at the arm hanging loosely from the bed.

The world she used to know didn't matter anymore. Nothing matters... her world had died with the man laid on the bed in front of her. How could she continue to go on. She hadn't the strength for that...She wasn't anymore.

"Booth," the name seeped through her lips like a fading whisper.

She felt arms around her. It had to be him, she was probably going to wake up, and he would be there, giving her his charming smile, the one that always sent shivers to run the long of her spine. But when she opened her eyes, the brown eyes she discovered staring at her with grief, belonged to Angela. The tears in her eyes told Brennan she hadn't dreamed, the nightmare was real. Booth was... She couldn't say it.

It tore her heart to let her cold mind repeating these words, as her heart fought irrationally against it.

It couldn't be,... it just couldn't..., repeated her mind.

Angela nestled her face in her shoulder. She couldn't talk. What would she could possibly say to Brennan?... You gonna be okay...How?... No, her friend wouldn't be okay, ... she would never be okay. Seeing her dropping on the floor, weeping, she knew her friend had unconsciously realized what Booth really meant to her. And now, she had lost him. After all these years, she had finally opened up to someone, and fate had taken him away from her. What could she possibly say? She tightened her embrace knowing her friend needed it as it was the last thing that kept her from falling completely on the ground.

"Sweetie" she muttered to her ear, "come with me..."

Supporting her friend by the shoulder, she helped her to stand. Her frail body leant on her. Slowly, Angela drove her out of the room. Brennan didn't see the sorrow in the eyes of the people she passed. Cullen and Hodgins had stepped back to let both women exited from what was Booth's room. Following them, they stared at them as Brennan, too weak to walk further, leant on the wall. She crumbled to the floor, knees pressed against her chest trying vainly to catch some warmth. Angela watched her, worry and tears in her eyes.

Crouching in front of her friend, Angela spoke softly, "Sweetie,... you can't stay here..." she glanced at Hodgins, "let us drive you home, okay?"

Brennan had nestled her head between her arms and knees, avoiding the world around her. She didn't want to listen Angela. She couldn't go. Home, what a strange word? It had so much meaning before, but now it was nothing. Home was when he stood beside her smiling, when he put his hand over her coffee to prevent her from burning her tongue or when he put his hand to the small of her back in his protective alpha male way. Home was when he held her tight, and she could hear his heartbeat. She muffled her sobs as she remembered he had no heartbeats anymore. How could it be possible for someone with such a big heart to have no heartbeat?

"Sweetie?" repeated Angela, as she stroked Brennan's cheek wiping her tears.

"I'm not going, Ange..." struggled Brennan, "I'm not leaving him!" she said, raising her eyes to her friend.

The deep pain in her eyes, stopped Angela. She took a deep breath.

"Bren,..." she hesitated, "he would have like you to go home and rest." she said low.

"You don't know that Ange, you're not his partner, I am" voiced Brennan.

The look in Angela's eyes struck Brennan as she realized what she had just said. She hadn't used the past, her words implied he was still alive but he wasn't.

She looked straight into Angela, "Don't ask me that!" she said, she didn't want to talk about Booth in the past, she wouldn't, she couldn't...It was not the truth her heart told her, she was living a lie, and she was going to wake up soon. Damn, she thought, why couldn't she woke up right now to prove to all of them they were wrong? He wasn't dead.

Her stare went to his room. From the place where she sat on the floor, she could see his bed and the nurses around him as his door was open. Then, she saw the nurses covering him with a white sheet. They pulled it to his chest and continued to his face until he was completely underneath. Her heart squeezed in her chest. They couldn't act like he was dead. Something was wrong. Standing quickly, she swayed on her legs.

"Honey," muttered Angela as she caught her under the shoulder.

But Brennan couldn't let anyone stop her, not even her best friend. They were wrong! They were all wrong! And she wasn't going to sit while they were mistaken.

Leaning on the open door, she stared horrified at the nurses, "what do you think you're doing?" she voiced.

Both nurses turned at once, staring at the poor woman on the threshold. As they caught Brennan's sorrow, they both took a compassionate look.

"We have to clean the room, mam." said the blond nurse.

"We are very sorry for your loss," said the other nurse.

The words struck Brennan right in her heart. How could she say that? It was Booth's words! He was the only one who could get to say it, not them. She was furious. Stepping inside the room in a blaze of anger, she stared at the white sheet that covered him.

"Get out!" she said angrily.

"I'm really sorry mam, but we have to..." spoke the blond nurse.

"Get out! Get out!" Brennan repeated as tears started to water her eyes again, and she brought her hands to her ears, "...just go..." she said her voice low now as her sobs became more intense, and she stared in shock at the white sheet.

Angela stepped behind her friend, nodding to the nurses. They both glanced at each other exchanging concerned looks before heading to the exit. As they closed the door behind them, Angela stepped beside Brennan looking at the white sheet. Seeing her friend had cut herself from her surroundings, she stepped back.

"I'll be outside sweetie," she said softly as she closed the door.

The room was quiet now. Too quiet, thought Brennan. Last time she entered, the monitors were there, beeping and making everyone who entered the room, aware he was alive. Now there was no sound as they took all the medical apparatus from the room. Only the IV line with blood was still attached to his arms as the nurses hadn't had the time to take it away. It hung loosely near the bed. The crimson line crawled like a snake under the sheet where his arm still protruded from the sheet. The tan of his skin had totally disappeared, leaving a white translucent skin stained by dark brown bruises.

As the silence wrapped her in its wings, she realized she was really alone. She felt the tears shedding her cheeks. Slowly, she stepped to the bed, her step unsteady. As in a dream, she pulled the sheet off him in slow motion. It slipped slowly from his body, revealing his ivory face before falling softly to the ground without a sound. It seemed her she had entered a world of silence.

His head was on the side. She remembered slowly why. The last electric shock had made his head rolled to the side and now his face was turned toward her as in a last attempt to see her, only his eyes were closed. Muffling her sobs, she slid her hand under his neck and lifted gently his head to put it back on the pillow. More tears rolled on her cheeks as she realized that she had never behaved so tenderly with him when he was alive. At least never when he was conscious. She gazed tenderly at his features. He seemed peaceful, she thought. Swallowing back more tears, she brushed softly his hair back. The sweat and blood had stuck them to his skin. He always had spiked hair, she remembered. She smiled faintly. That's more like him, she thought, cocky, charming, with his colorful socks and his spiked hair. She brushed back more hazel tufts. She wanted to give him back his face and erase the fights he'd been through. She wanted him to be back to normal and even if her mind kept repeating she was nuts to think like that, she knew she was acting with her heart, like him. Somehow that thought, made her feel close of him, and before she even noticed, she was tenderly caressing his face, her head resting on his shoulder.

She felt the tears ran along her cheeks and wetting his chest. Her ear against him, she dozed lulled by the faint beat of his heart.

Before her eyes closed, an important thing sneaked to the back of her mind. She needed to remember it, but the exhaustion and the pain were stronger and she was sleeping before she could deal with it.

A warm hand caressing her cheek awoke her. As she raised her head her eyes connected into the chocolate gaze staring at her. He gave her his charming smile. Staring as well, she couldn't talk.

A faint smile appeared on her lips, as she gazed at the man before her. She was still at the hospital, and in a sitting position, pillows behind his back, the man she thought dead was there, smiling cockily at her.

"Booth" the name escaped her lips in the moan of pleasure. Smiling, she nestled her head in his shoulder, muffling her sobs. "I'm sorry," she said, I thought..." her voice trailed off. "I thought, you were..." the words stayed stuck in her throat.

Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her close to him. She smiled, feeling his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

"I knew you were not dead, I knew you wouldn't give up!" she stated smiling. She just couldn't stop smiling, she felt so good in his arms. She didn't want to move. She wanted to stay like this forever.

But her rational mind had to ask, "How?" she started, "How did you..."

"Temperance" cut Booth, his voice very far.

She pulled back, locking her eyes in his. Something in his tone was scaring her, why, she wondered. She stared at him, waiting. A long line ran his forehead.

"You're not listening," he said, sadness in his voice.

She frowned, "I am listening to you," she replied not understanding what was he talking about.

"No... you're not..."he repeated, in a slow voice.

She heard him sighed.

"Booth... I am!" she struggled, her eyes darting into his tired stare.

"No,..." his painful eyes connected into hers, "you promised me Temperance."

She could feel the sorrow in his tone, but why, she wondered, why does he feel so sad?

"You haven't respected your promise..." he added, his voice was soft and sad, withdrawn of any reproach.

Her eyes reflected his pain, as she swallowed "I will now," she answered guiltily.

"No" he said softly, "you have to do it without me."

"But," she started, not understanding where he was going, "I will smile, I was just worried about you..." she added.

Sadness invaded his features.

She frowned, looking intensely at him, "what's going on Booth?"

"Your brain already knows it Temperance," he dropped, his sad gaze locking in the depth of her eyes.

"No I don't!" she voiced, scared.

Then she noticed the way he was sitting and holding her. Pulling back from his arm, her eyes slid to his wrists.

"We don't have a lot of time," he said, his voice sounding far now.

Sadness in her eyes, she raised them to glare at him "Booth what happened?" she said. "Your wrists, they're... They're healed!" she swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat.

She saw him taking a deep breath as to gather his courage. Then he spoke softly, "Because, Temperance,... it's a ..."

She placed her finger on his lips before he could finish, "No, don't say it!" she pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Cuddling her hand in his, he saw the fear in her blue crystal eyes.

A single tear slid down from the corner of his eyes, "don't make it harder Temperance, you know what happened... you know I'm dead... and that's only a dream..."

"No" she voiced, letting her head fell on him. His words had stabbed her, leaving a giant wound in her chest, "You can't be dead! I know you! You're a warrior! ..." she struggled with the words, "...Warriors don't die! They fall in fight but they always find a way to rise and shine more."

She knew it was not a rational explanation, she was just arguing with her heart. But right now, her heart wasn't thinking rationally, and it didn't matter. She could feel him, feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest. This was real. It was the only thing that matter to her.

She felt him swallowing, "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm not that strong!"

She buried her face deep in his neck, as her heart was about to explode in her chest. "No you're strong Booth!"

"I'm too far Temperance," she heard him muttered. "I just wanted to make sure you'll keep your promise," he said, his voice fading.

"I can't!" she replied, her voice full of sobs, "You're the one that make me smile,..." she swallowed her sobs, "I can't smile if you're not there. I have no reasons to..."

She felt his hands stroking her back slowly to sooth her, "It's okay Temperance,..." his soft voice added, "you will learn to live without me, and then I would like, you keep your promise, okay?" he blew, his voice becoming a faint whisper.

"Booth, don't leave me again!" she implored him.

"I could... only talk to you ...because we were... connected once...can't stay..." he whispered.

She felt the heat of his heart replaced by the cold loneliness as his body faded in her arms.

"I'll be watching you..." blew his voice in a warm breeze.

"No, not again! "she said crying, "you can't..." she shouted at the empty room, "you can't leave me Booth!"

Her head fell on the sheets burying her face in it to stifle her painful sobs.

Far away, the squeal of rolling wheels echoed. Wiping her tears, she looked around. The place was deserted. Then, the room started to change as her vision blurred. She raised her tired eyes to realize she wasn't leaning on Booth's bed anymore. She was still in the room, but his bed had disappeared, and so he had too. Fear grasped her chest, clinging to her heart like a leech as her strength was sucked away by this parasite. Where was he? She stood in a hurry, and felt dizzy. Supporting her weight on the chair, she turned and met Angela standing in the entrance, a sad gaze on her face.

"They had to move him, Brenn..."  
Brennan's eyes widened. No, they couldn't take him away from her, she thought, not now. Why now, her mind wondered? But she couldn't remember. Rushing out of the room, she didn't look at Angela. As soon as she was in the corridor, she glanced at each side, looking for him. Then she turned to her friend.

"Where Ange?"

Her friend looked at the floor, "Brenn..."

"Where Angela?"

Giving up, Angela pointed to her right. Not waiting any longer, Brennan ran in the corridor with only one idea in mind, she had to stop them. After running like nuts, she finally spotted them turning at a corner.

"Wait" she voiced, not caring about the faces that eyed her suspiciously as she was running. "You can't take him!"

The nurses turned to the doctor standing beside them. He nodded to them, and they continued to roll the stretcher. The doctor stepped in Brennan's way. She raised her red eyes on him with anger, as if he had become a threat to achieve her goal.

"Let me go!" she shot, furious.

"No miss" he replied, "we have to take him," his compassionate eyes stared at Brennan, "I'm sorry... but your friend is dead!"

The painful words echoed in her head, aching.

"Don't take him,..." her voice pleaded, "not now..." she swallowed the tears that threatened to overwhelm her and change her into someone who couldn't stand grief, though it was all she was feeling right now. "He's not dead!" she shouted.

The young doctor looked at her with sympathetic eyes, "I'm sorry to insist, but we are doctors, we unfortunately know when someone passes away," he said, his voice soft.

"And I am doctor Temperance Brennan!" she replied, tired, "I know him well, and if I'm telling you that he isn't dead that's because he's not!"

"I'm sorry," repeated the doctor, "but what proof do you have that we could have missed to say something like that?"

His words echoed in her head. What proof? He is a warrior, she wanted to voice aloud, he had never given up in his life, he had a kid, and he would miss him too much, and... She felt a knot forming in her throat as the doctor stared at her, waiting for an answer.

"He has a heartbeat!" she spilled, remembering when she fell asleep.

She heard it. It was faint and really slow, but she was sure she heard it. The doctor stared at her speechless, and the nurses froze behind him, stopping the stretcher. Brennan thought she had given him enough to convince him, but her hope melted as the doctor went back to his analytical stance, and spoke, "Your friend," he started, speaking slowly like if he was talking to a child, "had a cardiac arrest. I'm afraid his heart stopped a long time ago!"

"No," she replied, she wouldn't give up on him. He was alive she knew it, and she would prove it to them, " in some cultures," she began, trying her best to steady the sound of her voice and sounding more like a professional, "... people can reduce their heartbeat. It's so low that it can't be heard."

She saw the smirk appearing on the faces in front of her. They think I'm crazy, she thought. She closed her fists, holding on the idea that she was right. She can't abandon him just because of weird stares.

"I can prove what I said," she said, "but we have to hurry. He had already lost a lot of blood, and moving him around without any care it's going to kill him!" she voiced, hurrying the doctor in front of her.

The doctor watched her intensely, his foot had started to tap on the floor, obviously annoyed by her now.

"Please," she said, in a last attempt to reason them, "He's going to die if you don't take a decision now!"

The nurses glanced at each other. One of them, the same blond than the last time locked her eyes in Brennan. She swallowed as she turned to the doctor.

"Perhaps, ...we should check..." she muttered to the doctor.

The doctor turned to her, frowning. Then, his stare went back to Brennan.

Anger started to burn in Brennan's eyes. How could the man before her pretend to be a doctor as he was taking so much time to take a decision involving life or death of a human being? "you have to act now!" then, she heard the words coming out sharply from her mouth, "help him, that's your job! Because if you don't I swear you won't be working in a hospital if he dies because of you! I promise you..."

She saw the fight in his eyes. Sure he didn't like she threatened him, but if she had to do it to save Booth's, hell she'll do it every time , she had to.

The tension was high now in the corridor. Everyone was now watching the discussion, waiting for the doctor to answer.

He breathed deeply, "take agent Booth back to his room," he ordered to the nurses, "we'll see if you're right," he said to Brennan, his jaws tightened into a fake smile. He was obviously hurt in his pride that she had threatened him in public. But Brennan didn't care.

As the nurses turned the stretcher and rolled it the other way, they passed before Brennan. Adapting her pace to the stretcher, she discovered with horror, they had put back the sheet over him. As she walked, she pulled the sheet to free his face. His features were so white she felt her hopes fading and tears threatening again. She took a deep breath. Not now, she thought, it's not the time, if there's a slight chance that he'd be alive she had to keep a straight mind.

Finally, they turned at a corner and under Angela's wide eyes, the nurses pushed the stretcher inside Booth's old room. Brennan swallowed as she entered too in the room. It had to work, she thought.

The doctor entered few minutes later, rolling a heart monitor on a small table. He nodded to the nurses as they started to stick captors on Booth's chest and temples. Brennan noticed the many bruises on his chest had turned into dark brown spots. Trembling her fingers reached to touch the dark bruises. All the fights, she thought, as her fingers caressed the swollen skin, all these blows he had taken to protect her. She sighed. But now, it was her turn to make sure he would be okay.

She turned to the doctor who was waiting for her signal. She saw his finger ready to start the heart monitor and her heart squeezed inside her chest. She surprised herself as her hands reached for Booth. Cuddling his right hand in hers, she nodded to the doctor. A lump had formed in her throat as she stared at the screen. The same terrible flat line appeared on the monitor. A long sound echoed in the room as they waited in silence, staring at the screen. Brennan closed her eyes praying for a miracle. She thought, if God existed then he couldn't take the life of a good man. The flat sound kept echoing in the room. She heard the doctor twitching. After a minute, the nurses started to whisper to each other. Brennan caught some of their words.

"Poor woman," they said, "it's so sad..."

She breathed deeply, staring at Booth. Come on Booth, she implored him mentally, show them you're still here, please. She felt the tears coming back to water her already red eyes. As she wiped her eyes to stop the flow, she noticed the blood on her palm. Looking at the dressing around his wrist, she saw blood pouring from the bandage.

"I'm really sorry, doctor Brennan," said the doctor.

"Don't!" she said, sniffing. "He is alive! His heartbeat is just too low to appear on your monitor."

The doctor glanced at the nurses to turn off the monitor. "I'm sorry but it's over!" he turned to Brennan. "We have to take him now. Don't make it harder for you, and let us do our job," he deepened his eyes in hers, "your friend will not come back! Nobody has! He...is...dead!" he said emphasizing his last words.

Brennan felt her anger turning into rage, as she saw the nurses pulling the captors from her partner's chest.

"You," she said pointing at the nurses, "you are going to let everything in place!" then she glared at the doctor, "and you are going to provide him with everything he needs. Like blood transfusion, IV line, everything he needs to recover... because he is alive!" she stated, her face showing that arguing was over.

The nurses froze. The doctor looked into her, angry.

"And I gonna stay and check that you're doing everything possible to keep him alive, am I clear?" she voiced, her eyes darting fire arrows.

"Your friend is..." replied the doctor, tired that Brennan was giving him now orders in his hospital.

"My friend is alive!" she cut, " If you had checked his dressings you will have noticed he's still bleeding, which is impossible when you're dead... because there is no blood flow rushing through your veins!"

The doctor stared at her, confusion in the eyes, "that's..." he stumbled on the words, "that's impossible!" he dropped, glancing at Booth.

Angela who had stayed near the door, walked to stand beside Brennan. "If she said is alive, so he is!" she looked at the doctor, "she's always right!"

"Thanks, Ange" muttered Brennan still glaring at the doctor.

"Your job is to save lives," said Brennan, anger vanished from her tone. She had regained her composure as her brain had been convinced by the facts noticed by her heart. "I know the chance is really thin, but we have to try...I have to try," she corrected, "I owe him that much," she said looking at Booth's face.

The doctor's shoulders dropped, giving up. "I don't agree with your diagnosis, but in his interest, "he said glancing at Booth, "I'll make sure he'd be treated." Then he nodded to the nurses, to put back the captors, "have an IV line and blood bags ready for him, hurry," he added as they glared at him.

The nurses rushed out of the room with their new instructions.

He locked his eyes into Brennan, "but don't hope too much! What you're saying is impossible. I'll do it because there's a slight chance you may be right. But be aware, doctor Brennan,... the odds are against him!"

Brennan stared at him, maintaining his gaze, "Booth has always beaten the odds, and so he will if he had to, I trust him!"

The doctor sighed, "your faith in him is remarkable, but it might not be enough!" he added as he walked out of the room.

Angela looked at the pale man laid on the bed. "Brenn, I'm gonna wait outside" she said as she pressed Brennan's shoulder kindly. It was hard to help her friend as she had believed like everyone that he was dead. She hoped Brennan was right. Then, she walked away, leaving her friend alone with her partner again.

As the door closed, Brennan pulled the sheets back to Booth's waist as the nurses had taken it off while sticking the captors on him. She didn't want him to get cold, and somehow it bothered her that anyone could pull away his sheets. He couldn't move or speak for himself, but deep inside, she knew he wouldn't like to be treated like that, depending on the people around.

Suddenly, the door was pushed strongly by a nurse rolling a long table with different medical tools. Two other nurses followed her. As they hung IV line and several blood bags, they glanced silently at Brennan who hadn't moved from her place beside him.

"Sorry mam," one nurse told her as she reached for Booth's wrist and started to sting a needle in his vein. Then she connected it to an IV line with a blood bag, and watched as the red drops fell slowly into the line and ran to Booth's arm.

Soon, the room was full of medical apparatus, but none of them were beeping when the nurses left. They listened as they exited from the room, knowing that this silence only meant one thing, the patient was dead, and there was nothing more they could do to change that.

Brennan watched him, ignoring the nurses' behavior. His features seemed relaxed despite all he had suffered. Now the only thing that she could do was wait. Wait that he came back. Sitting in the chair beside his bed, she gazed at him. It was up to him now, she thought.

"I need you Booth," she whispered to his ear, cuddling his frozen hand.

Then, she leant her head against his cold chest as her eyes glued to the monitor, waiting.

ooooooo

Few hours later, she felt a headache starting to annoy her. As she had kept the same position, hoping to warm his cold body, the muscle of her neck had strained to the point that now she was having a hammer inside her brain. She sighed, as she raised her head softly from his chest. She didn't want him to think that she was leaving. So she started to stroke softly his hair, maybe it would make him aware of her presence, and he would wake up.

She glanced at her watch, he should have given her a sign by now. She swallowed the fear that was sneaking painfully in her. The doubt. What if she was wrong, and that she had imagined all of it, his heartbeat, the blood on his dressing.

_What if there was no light  
Nothing wrong, nothing right  
What if there was no time  
And no reason or rhyme  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life_

The door opened slowly on Angela. She was holding two steaming cups of coffee. Handing a cup to Brennan she looked around and grabbed a chair hid behind the curtains.

As she pulled the chair to her, she hit a small object. It rolled from the window to the foot of the bed in repeated clunks.

"Hey, what's that?" wondered Angela, as she gave a surprise look at Brennan.

"What?" answered her friend, haze in her eyes.

She was feeling like she was in a vast mist and there was no exit from it.

"That!" replied Angela as she grabbed the small object to show it at Brennan. "It's weird, wow!"

"What is weird Ange?" said Brennan not really looking at her. She was afraid that Booth didn't wake up, and her friend talking like everything was okay was starting to get on her nerves.

"What, Ange?" she repeated as her friend was now staring at the object.

"The paintings are weird, though the skull is kinda freaking me out!"

"What!" voiced Brennan pulled out of her hazing state. "What skull?"

"The one on that small urn, sweetie, look!" she said as she handed her the object.

Brennan froze as her eyes met the object. It looked like a small urn, like Angela had said, but the weirdness came from the skull looking at two men under him. It was like if he was controlling them.

_What if I got it wrong  
And no poem or song  
Could put right what I got wrong  
Or make you feel I belong  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life_

As she grabbed the object, it started to warm in her palms, it was like if she knew it. Confused, she glanced at Angela who was watching her.

"What do you think it is?"

Brennan bit her lips, "I don't know. I feel heat coming from it and like it's mine, but I never had anything like that!"

"So it is weird!" repeated Angela.

"Yes. I don't think it's a coincidence if it's in Booth's room."

"You think it's voodoo related somehow?" asked Angela.

Brennan frowned, "probably."  
"Do you want me to bring it to Zack. Maybe he'll find out what's it made off."

Looking at the small urn, Brennan seemed considering her friend's idea, then she answered, her voice far away, "No, I prefer to analyze it myself."

She stared at the skull. She couldn't tell to her friend that her gut was imploring her to keep this object close to her, as the most precious thing she had in life. She didn't know why, and even if she didn't believe in it, the feeling was too strong to just ignore it. It had to be related to voodoo and so to Booth, and for that she wasn't ready to send it far from him. She had to start to trust Booth and his ides about how your gut could give you a hint. It might be the signal she was waiting for.

Placing the object near his hand she gazed at her partner. Was he really sending her a message? Or was she becoming nuts? If she had invented all, then, he wasn't going to wake up and she was going to die slowly watching him fade away.

"Brenn," spoke Angela as she found her friend's silence weighing heavily in the room. "He's tough, sweetie," she added, "like you said before, if there's a way to come back, he will!"

Brennan gazed at her friend, tears wetting her eyes. She was hoping so much that it was true.

"What if I'm wrong, Ange? What if he's not coming back, and I'm just prolonging my misery?"

Her friend sighed. She locked her eyes in Brennan, "you two know each other better than anyone in this world," she paused watching her friend's features fading, "Brenn, what you are doing for him right now, fighting death as hard as you can,... that's something he would have done too if the situation was reversed... You're both tough warriors. And as long as you fight, he does too."

"But I failed him Ange!" she said, sniffing, "I left him alone, defenseless. He was counting on me, and I wasn't there for him!" she cried, burying her tears as Angela pushed her face against her shoulder.

_Every step that you take  
Could be your biggest mistake  
It could bend, or it could break  
That's the risk that you take  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there in your life  
That you don't want me there by your side_

"It's alright, sweetie." she said as she stroked her back. "It's alright..." Angela felt tears threatening to overwhelm her as well. "I'm sure he never thought you've let him down."

Brennan pulled back from her friend's arms, and turned to Booth. The flat line on the monitor hadn't changed in three hours. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"There's no signs of activity Ange, " she said, sorrow in her voice, "if I'm wrong..." her voice trailed off, she couldn't say it.

Angela grabbed her hands and locked her eyes in her, "what if you're right Brenn?" she sighed glancing at Booth, "hope is the last lover act sweetie!" She saw the confusion in her friend's eyes, "I know you two are partners. But you can't deny what you feel for him honey. You'll have to accept that, because it's what helped you to go that far." she paused letting the words sunk in her friend's mind, "and right now you need a lot of it... No one here will ever judge you, be sure of that Brenn."

Brennan closed her eyes as the words took some meaning. She swallowed, opening her eyes as she turned to Booth.

"There's too many things to say, too many things undone Ange. I..." she stumbled on the words, "I...hope... we will have time."

"You will, " spoke a voice behind them. "But only if you follow my recommendations."

Both women turned to the intruder. Their eyes widened as they recognized the voodoo healing priest. Maman Anise was wearing the same colorful robe than the last time they met, only this time her shoulder was bearing a large bag.

Angela stood up and went to shake Maman Anise's hand. Then, leading her by an arm, they both stopped near Booth's bed. With an intense glare, Maman Anise looked at Booth. His face had lost his color, as if life had abandoned him. Brennan stepped beside the bed in a protection stance.

Maman Anise glared at Brennan, looking deep inside the anthropologist, "you're afraid," said Maman Anise, frowning, "you have good reasons for that!" dropped the little woman.

"Of course," replied harshly Brennan, "why are you here?"

"oh Brenn," cut Angela, "actually I called her...I thought we needed all the help we could get."

Brennan's features relaxed a bit, thinking, "you're right Ange, we need all the help we can get."

Her friend shot her a small smile, happy that Brennan hadn't sent Maman Anise back.

Brennan took a long and deep breath, "why did you say that I have good reasons to be afraid?"

A sad look crossed the little woman's face, "because he's dying, sweetie."

A rush of pure lightness overran Brennan and then it dropped as fast when her brain heard the word 'dying'.

"So he is alive, " she whispered.

"Of course he is darling," said Maman Anise, "thanks to you and your stubbornness."

It was too much for her. She dropped back loudly. She would have hurt herself, if she hadn't the chance to fall in the chair. Her sight went to Booth's face. He's alive, repeated her mind, he's alive.

* * *

I know another cliffie, but at least you know now, well... maybe...:)

I'm already writing the next chapter, so I hope to post it soon.

Please review, I really love to have your feelings and point of view...


	20. beat the odds

**Author's note: **Okay people, I have to admit I may have underestimate the power within this story, and I guess I can say, this chapter is not the last. We're close to the end, but I kinda feel next chapter wouldn't be the last either, sorry...

I'm a little late, but as you'll see this chapter is the longest ever, so it took me more time to correct it... but here it is, right? So enjoy...

**Disclaimer: **as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

ooooooo

* * *

He's alive, repeated her mind like a sweet lullaby. Booth is alive.

Angela crouched next to her, "sweetie, are you going to be okay?"

She turned her face to Angela, "Yes..." then, with a long breath, she stood up next to Booth and wrapped his cold hand in her fingers. I'm right here Booth, she thought, hang on.

Locking her eyes in the little woman, she gathered her strength inhaling a long breath, "you said, he's dying," the words burned her tongue as she spoke them aloud.

" Unfortunately,... yes," replied the little woman.

"Why is he like that?" asked Brennan.

Maman Anise turned to Booth and closed her eyes. Her hands flew inches over his body like she was seeking invisible strings. Biting her lips, she turned to Brennan, and opened her eyes. Staring at her, Brennan knew that she wasn't going to like it.

"He's near oblivion! Death is calling him, and knows to convince anyone." Maman Anise glanced at Angela before casting a strange look at Brennan, "and yet it seems he's resisting..."

Her last words floated in the air. A small hope lighted Brennan's heart. He's resisting, she repeated, he's fighting.

"Hang on Booth," she whispered, tightening her grip.

"So it's a good news that he's resisting" intervened Angela. "I mean, after all that proves that he is alive.

"Yes," replied Maman Anise, "but the line between life and death is very thin, and I won't tell you something you already know..." she turned to Brennan, "he is too weak to hold on anymore... that he be here is already a miracle. I think he's holding on, only to leave you enough time to say goodbye."

Her words cut sharply inside Brennan's gut. Her tired eyes went back to Booth. She swallowed the fear that had risen. After all they've been through, everybody thinking he was dead, she couldn't lose him again. He wasn't the kind of giving up.

Brennan glared at the little woman, "yes, his body has been weakened by all the pain and fights he endured, but his spirit remains. As long as his will to survive will lead him, he will overcome anything. I trust him.

"Yes, you do," replied the woman, "but he's no longer the man you knew. Something has changed," she said frowning as she looked at him, "... and I don't understand exactly how and why,... but the end is certain."

Not giving up, Brennan gazed at Booth's face, he couldn't abandon her. He said he wouldn't betray her. He couldn't leave her alone. She felt rage rose inside her, remembering the first words of the little woman.

"Then, why did you say he had a chance if we followed your recommendations?"

The little woman sighed, "because I thought we still had time, and that he remained the same, but something is missing... It's like he's not complete anymore. "

"What's missing?" asked Brennan, "he's here...I stayed here all the time," she said, waving at him, "I don't see what you're talking about?"

The little woman sighed deeply, shaking her head, "His soul, honey," she replied, "his soul has been torn apart, and he can't fix it alone!"

His soul, repeated mentally Brennan, as she stroked softly the back of his hand. She didn't believe in this kind of things. Her rational mind revolted against this idea. It was lies people invented for themselves for not being scared by death. But her, she knew death, she faced it everyday, and yet the possibility that Booth's believes were true opened a giant crack inside her rational world. She sighed, gazing at him. Tell me what should I do Booth, she thought. Can I believe?  
She breathed deeply and turned toward Maman Anise. Of course she could believe. It was Booth, and for him to be alive meant she had to give up her rational mind and believe, then she will. After all, that rationality had been her steady ground after her parents abandoned her, and strangely, Booth had slowly helped her to build a new one'. If he wasn't there, then she would have nothing to support her at all. Her world would just crumble under her.

Words she never believed she would say one day came out of her mouth, "then, we are going to fix that for him!" she stated with fierce determination.

Maman Anise stared at her thinking, "it might not be possible! "

"Okay," voiced Brennan, losing her control, "for the last time, can't you just tell me what has to be done, I'm sick of all your warnings! It's Booth's life we're talking about, and we're losing time!" she snapped.

Angela stared at her, she had never seen Brennan so shaken, beside the time she had found her mother's remains.

"Honey," she said, stepping to be close to her friend, "you will find the right solution," she gave her a small smile, "you always do."

Brennan nodded, she was tired. She wanted to see him open his eyes, and be sure that he was going to be okay.

"You are right," say the healing priest, "but I had to be sure you were ready to go as far as the situation requires it."

She glanced at the small urn beside Booth's hand, "I assume you found this after he slipped into this state."

"Yes," said Brennan, relaxing a bit, "do you know what is it?"

The little woman bit her lips and frowned, "it is an object of great despair, a dreadful urn, meant to capture souls and confined them for eternity."

"Oh," let out Angela, pouting.

Brennan was confused, her brain refusing to believe in Maman Anise's words. And then, as she stroked the back of Booth's hand, she found the strength to sooth her internal conflict, and spoke slowly.

"What do we do if his soul is trapped... Inside this..."

Pain crossed Maman Anise's eyes, "if his soul is trapped inside, we can release it by opening the urn," she paused, choosing her words, "... but he will die right after..." her voice trailed off.

Brennan winced, it had to be another way. She stared at the woman and something in her eyes made her doubt.

"what aren't you telling us?" Brennan said a bit angry. Booth hadn't the time for this game of cat and mouse.

"I still feel his soul connected to his body..." she said, "but...I have never seen something like that!" she glanced at Brennan, giving her a sympathetic look, "... there's no escape from this urn," she paused, "and yet I can feel your friend trapped inside, although a part of him still exist on this plan... It's... unusual." she said stressing on the last word.

Brennan felt her hope going up. If it was unusual it had to be because of Booth. Her mind raced. He had surely interrupted something or found an escape of some kind. She allowed a faint smile to curve the corner of her mouth. He was still there, fighting.

"What can we do?" shot Brennan.

Maman Anise shook her head with sadness, "I came because you called me, " she said, glancing to Angela, "but...this..." she said , pointing at Booth.

"What?" replied Brennan, "if you have a solution, tell me! He's strong, he wouldn't give up so easily!"

The little woman sighed, "for this, you need more than just your will to help him..." she said, as she glared at Brennan, her eyes showing she understood her goal, "you see, if his soul isn't completely severe from his body, then there's a very small chance to bring him back," she stressed on the words,"...but..." she paused, a ghost appeared on her face, "... But if he survives, he will not be the same after that..." her voice trailed off, watching Brennan.

Brennan breathed slowly. Whatever happens, she thought, we'll deal with it on time. Shooting to Maman Anise a determined look, she nodded to her to resume.

"He could not be the same you knew,... I mean, being really,... really different... The shock of coming back is more than devastating for someone lost in limbos. But for him, as he's trapped in this urn the world that he's confronted,... is a terrifying one." her stare remained stuck in Brennan's blue eyes, "... you must realize that being trapped in both worlds in the same time, is a shattering experience... no human mind can survive this. And if he does, he will only become a shadow of himself."

Brennan glared at her, tears wetting her eyes, "just say it!" she said, with a lump in her throat.

Angela put a hand on Brennan's shoulder, "You mean... he could be crazy or something like that?"

Maman Anise gazed at both women, "I've never really seen anyone coming back after his soul has been severed, but I've been told of some who did, and I don't think you'd like that life for your friend." she gave them a compassionate look, "...It might be wiser to just help him to move on to another plan, free his soul and let him be himself."

Brennan swallowed, thinking at all the possibilities, "you've said he might... But could he come back and being okay?"

Maman Anise glanced at Angela, and sighed, "I've never heard anyone succeeded..."

Silence filled the room, as Brennan realized all her hopes had just been waking dreams. And yet, she thought, if there was the smallest chance in the world, wouldn't Booth be willing to take that risk? She wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to suppress the chill running through her bones. She thought she knew him, and if she was right, he would make the try.

"How do we proceed?" she threw nervously at the healing priest. Her fingers probed the sheet to feel his skin. She needed him by her side, then..., things would be so much easier.

Maman Anise nodded, "let me an hour to prepare myself for the ritual, then... as you wish, we will proceed."

Maman Anise turned on her heels, and left, shutting the door behind her, and leaving Brennan with Angela. She sighed deeply, looking at Booth. So many things were going to happen, and he wasn't there to guide her or even to choose for himself. Even with Angela by her side, she felt very alone and cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find some heat. Her decision now, was going to change their life forever. If only he could give her a sign, something that would assure her she was taking the right decision for both of them. But his face remained deeply impassive.

Suddenly, Bob Marley's tuneful voice echoed in the room. A confused look passed on Angela's face, before she headed to the door grabbing her phone. Walking in the corridor, she sighed heavily before sticking the phone to her ear.

"Jack?" she asked, closing the door behind her.

"Yes, Angela. Is she here?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't think it's the right time now... "

"Just tell her, she was right. ...I mean that's just amazing that she thought of that... If she hadn't ...man!!" he almost yelled on the phone.

Angela cut him, "Jack, calm down! What are you saying?"

She heard him twitching on his seat, "she was right, Booth has been poisoned. I found very small traces of neurotoxin called tetrodotoxin in the blood that stained the samples you gave me. It's a toxin produced by the puffer fish, known as ' fugu',..." he waited giving Angela enough time to process and throw her next question. As she didn't he resumed, "... it's the fish ate by Japanese!" he voiced, "his toxin, the tetrodotoxin, slow down the heart rate, and made the victim appears like dead."

"Oh god," whispered Angela, putting her hand over her mouth, "so Booth is really alive..."

Hodgins cleared his throat, "uh, that's not that simple, Ange. This toxin is deadly, with what I've found in the samples you gave me, he had a large dose, and it's not good Ange! It's really not looking good!"

She stayed stunned, unable to speak.

"Ange?" wondered Jack, "I'll explain it to her..."

She sighed, "okay. I put you through...but Jack?"

"Yes" he replied, waiting.

"Don't push her to the edge okay? She got enough to take care already!" she said, her voice filled with sadness.

"I understand." he said, serious.

"Thanks... wait a second..."

She pushed the door tiredly, and gazed at the exhausted Brennan sitting near Booth. Why so many bad news? Are they cursed or something, she thought, the man didn't deserve it?

"Brenn," she said low, "Jack wants to talk to you..." she handed her cell phone before leaving the room again, giving her some privacy to deal with the last bad news.

"Jack?" said Brennan, with a small tired voice.

"Doctor Brennan, I analyzed the samples you sent me,..." he paused. He really hated that part, be the bearer of bad news, especially about Booth. That just sucks, he thought.  
She waited, closing her eyes. She knew by Hodgins' way to talk, kindness in his voice, a bit unsure, it just meant bad news again. Her body loathed at the moment, she didn't want to have to deal with worse. Exhaling deeply, she felt her pounding headache reached a new level as it started to pulse behind her temples.

Feeling he had waited enough to give her a hint about the results, Hodgins resumed, "I found Tetrodotoxin,...it's uh... A toxin from the puffer fish, Fugu, and ah... It slows heartbeat till a death like state, ..." he swallowed, he didn't like to be the one to announce her that, but he had, "...it's deadly..."  
He heard her taking a long breath in the phone, please god, do a miracle, he thought.

"Jack..." she paused, slowing down her own heartbeats, "five hours ago, the doctors said he was dead,...Maman Anise says he's going to die, you say the same thing..." she stopped, calming her thoughts, "All I know Jack, is that he's going to live, no matter what anyone can say..." her voice trailed off as to get her breath back, "...Jack, I need you to focus on how we are going to help him..." she paused waiting for him to argue, but he stayed quiet, "... Is there anything in your analysis that could be helpful?"

He stared blankly at his screen, "uh, the tetrodotoxin slows the heart rate... and so like you thought Booth is in some kind of catatonic state, his muscles are paralyzed and..."

Brennan missed the next words as a big knot formed in her throat. It just struck her that Booth could just be aware of everything around him and yet be in the impossibility to tell anyone he was still there. She closed her eyes trying to focus on the conversation, and remain rational, though her heart was wriggling out hard to escape her ribcage.

"... Unfortunately, his tox screen came back too high, it's flooding his organs, I'm sorry I don't see any solution..." he finished sounding a bit panicked.

"Jack, stay focus," she said, trying to calm him down, "what would happen if he didn't have this amount of toxin?"

"uh, maybe he could have a chance, but it's too late. The toxin is in his system for too long, his organs must be saturated with it by now..."

"You forget his blood loss, that could have drained some of the toxin away, and slow down the propagation, right?" her voice was full of hope. Please, Hodgins, confirm it, she thought.

A heavy silence weighed on the line.

"Maybe..." he dropped, "I guess if he didn't get the full amount of **it** and that he had a lot of transfusions, there's a chance... uh, I do the maths, and I call you asap..."

"Thanks Jack."

"Hey, don't mention it, If I can be of some help... But I will need a new sample, fresh blood this time, not a dry stain on a cloth," he felt her tensing on the other side of the phone. He added quickly, "I mean, I won't need a lot, just enough to help Zack and me to run the test...I know he's not in shape to lose more blood."

"I'll send Angela," whispered Brennan.

She hung up, and stared at Booth. His face had still the same hollow look since he had been declared officially dead for everyone. The rose of his soft skin had slowly been replaced by a sinister shade of ivory, leaving his features partially stained by small crimson touches around his eyes. She could hardly see him without noticing the greyish jawbone swelling out beneath his skin. His cocky smile had left his face as well, replaced by his closed purple lips. If she hadn't believed so much in him, she would have thought he was dead, as his features were those of death.

Her sight slid to his long hunky arms resting over the sheets. It looked very thin beneath all the colored lines plugged in his veins. She sighed heavily at the thought of what she was about to do. Stepping to a small table in the corner, where the nurses had left some medical tools, Brennan rummaged between its content to finally seize a syringe, a medical tube, a cotton swab and some alcohol.

Then, she walked back to stand near his bed. Gently, she turned his wrist to reveal his veins drawing dark lines along his arms. Caressing his skin with her warm fingers she rubbed his cold forearm trying vainly to find a spot without bruises. She stopped after finding a tiny spot of white skin in the curve of his arm. She softly cleaned it with a cotton swab soaked with alcohol. As she was approaching the needle to his skin, she had to stop her shaking hands. She tightened her hands into a fist, reducing in the same time the shaking of her arms. It was both the fact that she had to sting his skin and make another hole in his skin, that the fear to take more blood from him that frightened her, sending tremors along her arms.

He had suffered so many things lately that she felt guilty when she stung the needle under his skin. Slowly, she watched as the needle deepened into his thin translucent skin, leaving a grey hollow line beneath it. Then, she started to suck some precious liquid. Carefully, she filled half a tube blood, thinking Hodgins would have to deal with it. Booth had already lost so much blood, that she was afraid to suck his last drop. Even when her rational mind told her that this eventuality was just notpossible. Then, she pressed the cotton over the small hole where a blood drop started to pour from, and stuck a small adhesive bandage on it. She glanced at his face, hoping this small event might have teased him enough to wake up. But his eyes remained definitely closed. Caressing his cheek like a mother after tugging his child to bed, she pressed her lips on his forehead, kissing him. She let her hand ran through his dark hair.

"Wake up soon," she whispered in a warm breath, "I'm longing to see those chocolate eyes of yours," she dared to add, blushing.

Then, muffling her steps, she went to the door, and exited from his room quietly. Outside, Angela was waiting anxiously for her. Her worried face was enough to Brennan to know how much her friend shared her pain.

"I'm really sorry, sweetie, " she muttered, her strength gone.

Brennan took a deep breath before locking her eyes in Angela's worried stare, "It's okay Ange, I'm fine, " she finally told her. "Hodgins has to check at this sample... to finish his analysis."

With a deep frown, Angela stepped to her, "Are you sure Brenn, I mean, Jack told me a bit of it and..."

"Jack may have better news after you bring him this sample," said Brennan, holding the tube half filled with blood in front of her face.

Angela closed her mouth, staring at Brennan, "you mean he's going to be okay long enough... for you to perform Maman Anise ritual."

Brennan twitched her lips, "that's why Jack has to check this."

"Okay, no more questions, " replied Angela, "I'm on my way."

"Thanks, " returned Brennan.

"Well, I call you as soon as I have news..." she took a sympathetic voice, "keep an eye on him okay?" she said as she added a small grin.

Nodding slowly, Brennan watched as her best friend strode to leave the hospital. Her heart seemed lighter as she realized her friends were more like a family to her. Her sight lost in the corridor, she hoped that with her 'family', she would be able to save the one for who she would trade place rightnow. She sighed loudly as she went back to his room. The hardest part had yet to come, and waiting wasn't something she was the best at.

ooooooo

Darkness. He didn't remember where he came from or where he was going, he just knew this was his world. There was nothing but the pain of being alone. Well, not really alone, he thought. Billions voices calling your name, wasn't really being alone. They were all calling him, asking him to join them. He didn't know why, but something in their tone was creepy. A mix of sadness, greed and jealousy he had never heard before. He didn't want to join them, not if he had the choice. He tried to walk, but soon realized he had no legs. Fear gripped his mind as he tried to recall where he was. He remembered being in the hospital, holding Brennan close to him.

Then, cold darkness had clung to him and pulled him from her. He still remembered her warm skin against him. So, he was dead, he deduced, as sadness invaded his mind. And he hadn't told her how much she meant for him. Then, the voices calling him had to be his victims, he thought. It's time to pay. They came for me, he thought in a sudden and cold realization.

The voices got closer, yelling his name with anger.

"You belong to us..." they howled, like a pack of wolves. "You are here forever..."

He tried to get away, but the obscurity was everywhere, and he wasn't on any ground. He was somehow floating inside this obscurity. There were no up or down anymore. Nothing, except a black infinity all around him. No motion, no air, no breath. Just him, alone in the dark. No way out, Seeley boy.

I'm in hell, he thought. His mind wandered, looking for the one that had always been his beacon in life.

"Temperance," he muttered for himself, "I'm sorry", as the voices were all around him now, growling.

He could feel their cold fangs all over him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I love you."

Their howls echoed loudly, like wild animals.

"You belong to us..." repeated the creepy voices.

ooooooo

One hour later her cell phone rang. On the caller id, Hodgins' name appeared in blue glowing letters. She pressed on the green button to take the call.

"Tell me you have good news," she threw in a loud breath, as she stood from the chair and walked to face the door. Even if it was irrational, as she believed Booth was unable to hear her, she didn't want to annoy him with this conversation.

"I have," Hodgins replied, smile in his voice. "You were right again. The amount of tetrodotoxin is lower in the last sample. It seems his blood loss had drained most of the toxin out of his system."

Her shoulders relaxed a bit. At last, she thought.

Hodgins resumed, "I guess, the amount of toxin is below the deadly level, so I don't know for the rest but this shouldn't stop him to wake up."

"No you're right about that, there're more..." she said lowering her voice on the phone.

"oh," whispered Hodgins.

"But it's okay Jack, we have a solution. He's going to be fine." she added, more to convince herself. She sighed and turned around to gaze at Booth. Yes, he had to be okay. What would she do if he couldn't make it? Just what would be her life?

She heard Hodgins' voice from far away, "I know, our army man is tough, and with you, there's nothing that can stop you two," he said trying to sound reassuring.

"Thanks, Jack."

She hung up and stepped slowly to sit back in the chair next to his bed. She hoped he was right. Please, she thought, make him be right.

She glanced feverishly at her watch. Only an hour had passed, but it felt like she had been waiting for a week in this room. Outside, the sunset caressed the wetted rooftops of the small houses, his brownish yellow ray of light glistened, sneaking between the curtains. Another day was about to end. Another harsh and dreadful day for her partner and for her. She swallowed as her eyes caressed his orange features bathed in the last rays of daylight. A sad thought crossed her mind as these warm sunrays could be the last to stroke his skin. If he didn't make it to dawn, then, this sunset would be her last too. There was no way she could go on and live like before. The world would just become grey and fake. Even if she had made a promise to him, he had been the only one to make her feel this alive. It's like being blind all your life and then someone steps in, and you see. You discover this very wonderful world waiting for you, and in a sudden awful twist of fate, you're back to your darkness. From this moment, seeing again just become impossible even when you know what's behind this obscurity. You just can't go back, because there are things that can be set back to normal.

Giving up to all the painful emotions whirling inside her mind, she leant close to Booth, and she sat on the bedside. Careful not to bump in any broken bones or deep wounds, she pressed her cheek against his shoulder and let her hands rest on his chest.

Wounded, her sworn enemy had tried to kill him to hurt her, and he almost succeeded. But Booth had fought back and even killed his tormentor. Though he had stood over death so many times, the doctors had given up on him, thinking he was dead. She had held onto the idea he was a warrior, a real one as she told him once. That's why she had fought them with her heart and hope, like a wild animal with his fangs and claws. Because she believed that warriors don't yield, that they fight to the end, she believed he was alive. Then, the doctor had given her what she asked for, medical care and all life support apparatuses that he needed. And time had passed. Now she was waiting, alone, for a woman who believed in magic and who could be her last hope. Despite all the facts and her own rational belief, she could feel Booth in the room. Okay not the physical one as he laid obviously before her, she thought. But his presence had always made her feel different, kind of giddy, though she wasn't sure why. And right now she could feel that same giddy feeling, though weaker than he used to be, but there. But if all the irrational things that she'd been said were true, he was on his own. The idea of him, alone, lost somewhere surrounded by cold darkness crept into her mind. She quivered. Almost unconsciously, she tightened her grip on him in a foolish hope to keep him from falling into this dreadful world. And so, she thought, another deadly night was about to follow the worst day of her life.

She looked through the window. The sun was about to disappear behind red brick buildings, dimming the orange light in the room. Soon, she thought, soon it would be dark. She had never been scared by darkness even as a child, but the one that was about to begin made her tremble slightly against him. Because it would either swallow his partner or help him to rise from his magical cell.

The small squealing of the hinges behind her, made her turn around to face the visitor.

"It is time," said softly Maman Anise.

Her face looked warm and peaceful, though a thin line appeared on her forehead as she noticed Brennan's look. Ignoring the worry in her eyes, she stepped toward Booth's bed, and put her heavy bag on the small night table.

Brennan stood up, leaving the comfort of Booth's chest while Maman Anise looked inside her bag. She rummaged in it for few seconds, before pulling out what looked like white feathers, a small black ceramic jar, small brown bags in linen, white and red candles and a plastic bag filled with things Brennan couln't make it out.

She glanced at Brennan, handing her the small ceramic jar, "scatter its contents along the wall and in each corner," she paused, then added as Brennan grabbed the black jar, "you should lock the door."

Frowning, Brennan opened the small jar. Very small translucent crystals caught the dim light of the room, and shone shyly inside the black jar.

"It's a very rare salt. Its flowers convey great purity. We will need it to keep his soul inside this room," explained the healing priest. "Think of it as a special place that we prepare for him... The most peaceful we can..." her voice trailed off.

"What do you mean?" wandered Brennan, now more worried.

The healing priest sighed, "When we will release him, he's going to be disoriented, confused, but besides that he won't be alone for long..."

Brennan frowned, "I don't see what you mean?"

"There are ... other things," Maman Anise said, "... And a lost soul like him, with a part still connected to his body, is an easy prey for the one who lurks in limbos for so long."

The small woman deepened her sight into Brennan, "they will try to sever his soul completely from his body."

"But why?", asked incredulously Brennan, "why him, why not now? "

"Because the power we are about to release to help him to regain his body, is very attractive. It will shine like a beacon in the darkest night, and as it will draw your friend to us, it will draw as well dark scavengers. And all they want is a weakened body to possess. For that, they will severe his soul once and for all. This..." she pointed to the small jar in Brennan's hand, "... will raise a barrier to prevent most of them to enter in this space."

Most of them?" said Brennan.

Maman Anise looked at her with intensity, "Even with my experience, I can't assure you that we will be alone. There's powerful spirit in this world, and our barrier will hold as long as your friend will hang on his life. If his will flickers only for a brief second then, the barrier will collapse, and we won't be able to protect him."

"He will hold on," stated Brennan, looking convinced before going to the door and locking it. Then, she thought, we'd be prepared to fight. She wasn't going to let anything happen to him this time. As Maman Anise started to set the candles around the bed and lightened them, Brennan began to scatter the salt on the floor.

"You know that he's been poisoned," she threw as she tossed a handful of salt on the ground.

With a loud breath, Maman Anise answered to Brennan, "I did think of it. It's the most common way for severing a soul... Weaken the body and then ensnare the spirit."

Brennan raised her eyes, "you knew it..." she frowned, "Why you didn't tell me?"

"I thought the bokor might have use it in the ceremony, but I wasn't sure before you really talked about it. You see this is a real dark side of voodoo, we don't like to talk about it... Using powers to slave someone, it was easy to jump to zombies. And as you're not a believer I would have lost the small credibility you had in me."

"You have no credibility for me, and I don't jump on conclusions!" spat Brennan, raising her eyebrows. "I just don't believe in invisible beings that would rule our life. There're just no proof of that! Therefore, you cannot have any credibility as you have no facts to support your beliefs... No offense to you..." added Brennan, taking a lower ton.

Maman Anise nodded slowly, a small smile at the corner of her lips.

Brennan knew if Booth had heard her, he would have tried to convince her to drop the subject. For him, religion wasn't about facts, but more a matter of faith. She thought a second about the word, faith. As she scattered the last handful of salt near the head of his bed, her eyes glided to his face. She would need a lot of faith tonight to help him. She shook her head, no she didn't need faith in some religion, all she needed was to keep faith in him. Faith that he would fight to come back, faith that no matter what, she would be there for him. And so, believing or not at the things Maman Anise had just told her wasn't really important.

Ten minutes later, the sun had completely disappeared. A lonely orange yellow beam glimmered into the room from the candles. Without them, the room would be plunged in total darkness. The melting wax impregnated the place, relaxing a bit the strange atmosphere. Near the burning candles Maman Anise had placed a white feather and handed two others to Brennan. Grabbing it, Brennan shot her a questioning look.

"You should place these next to his head, and then, you'll place these... " as she handed her two small brown bags, "... in his hands, they would be his physical anchor to this world."

So as advised, Brennan placed the feathers on each side of his head. She felt slightly nuts to do it, as she laid them beside his pillow. Pushing the idea aside, she set the brown bags inside his hands, and curled his fingers around them. As she closed his cold hand into a fist, she wrapped his freezing fingers in her soft hands. If he could see her, she thought, he would probably shoot her a huge grin and make fun of her. Though, Booth was a true believer, he could as well just be proud of her as she was about to break her rational barrier for him. Giving a slight squeeze to his hand, she prayed to be able to feel soon life flooding inside him. Laying softly his hand on the sheet, she turned to Maman Anise.

"Are we ready?"

The small woman nodded, "I will need the urn, " she stated.

Brennan handed her the small urn she had kept close of her from the moment she had known what was inside. Maman Anise took the artifact in her chubby fingers. The yellow light of the candles fluttered on her face. She set the urn in the circle made by the candles and started humming a song.

That's what Brennan thought, as it first began more like a complaint blew by a sweet breeze. Then, it turned slowly into a sad and grieving lullaby. The words meant nothing to the anthropologist, but like Booth would have said, the melody made her gut twitched inside, and she soon felt sick and dizzy.

ooooooo

Their dead and rotted fingers were all over him, clinging and tearing his soul. He couldn't say he was in pain, as he had never felt like that, so helpless and so alone. Even in Afghanistan when he'd been prisoner, he always knew how to free his mind and escape his jail. That's how he managed to survive. But here, his mind was trapped and all the crawling things around him had just come to have their share of his agony. As he had no voice, he couldn't call for help or even yell at them to get the hell out of here. He could feel their glassy nails deepening inside him, although he had no real body nor flesh to hurt in this world. And yet the pain was worst than any torture he had come through. Without breath, he couldn't scream to the point he would have burned his lungs. This was crazy. He... was becoming crazy.

Somewhere in this total darkness had to be an exit, he thought feverishly.

"No escape," repeated the voices, "you belong to us now!"

"Leave me alone!" he screamed in his mind, as scorching tentacle probed inside his thoughts.

He felt his mind crumbled under the hot stabbing pain that slashed his thoughts.

"Leave me alone," he repeated, pleading.

"No... the master gifted us..." sneered the voices. "We want to keep the gift to play..." their voices echoed, laughing.

ooooooo

The small urn started to glow from the inside. As Maman Anise opened it, a blue shining cloud seeped from the opening and spread into the room. The temperature increased suddenly. The air began to boil and beads of sweat appeared on Brennan's forehead.

But for Brennan the room remained unchanged. Only the candles flickered a bit when Maman Anise opened the urn.

"Be prepared to call him. And take this!" she said as she handed her a candle. "If the light was to disappear we would not be able to bring him back."

Brennan took the candle, and pulled it close to her. A long moan escaped from the urn, and echoed in the dim room.

"He's here," whispered Maman Anise. "Call him!"

"Booth?" uttered Brennan uncertain. She felt weird to call his name as he was laying in his bed in front of her. "Booth? It's Bones! If you can hear me, please come to us..." she paused, glancing at the healing priest, "follow the light Booth... please come back to me..."

Waiting, Brennan gazed at the room. But nothing happened.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Frowning, Maman Anise raised a concerned sight, "the power of the urn has been broken and your friend's soul is free, but if you don't see it, you will not be able to guide him and help him."

Brennan choked on the words. Okay, she had a rational mind, but saving Booth was her first priority, so why she couldn't see what was going on? As the little woman had said, if she couldn't see this, then how was she going to help him to come back. She let go a long frustrated sigh.

"Honey," said Maman Anise, "try to loosen a bit... Only true believers can see. Open your heart. For that you have to believe..."

Brennan nodded quietly. She had to do it. It had to work, she thought, for Booth. She let her eyes shut slowly, and the heat wrapped her whole body. Taking a long and deep breath, she lowered her heart rate and focus on her partner. First she remembered his cocky charming smile. Then, his deep determined chocolate stare connected with hers, sending shivers in all her muscles.

ooooooo

They clung to him, sucking his energy away. Their slimy and rotted shapes doused him. They're too many, he thought, his hope fading.

"Don't resist," growled the voice, "we have eternity to feed on your soul."

His old reflex made him gulped avidly for air, but only more angry minds invaded his head, raping his personality, stealing his memories.

"You will become one of us," said the voices.

This is hell, he repeated to himself. Then a terrible fear soared through his mind.

"Don't take that from me!" he yelled, crying, as he felt a nasty cold tentacle, grabbing the memory of his son's birth from him. "No!... please, not him!" he screamed as the shape of his little son's body in his arms vanished from his mind. "Don't take him from me!"

If a ground had been under him, he would have crashed on it, weeping with all his heart, but here he could only fall into more darkness, deepening into the obscurity's core, into oblivion.

More tentacle sneaked into his mind seeking more delightful memories to feed on. One caught a glimpse of a warm image their victim was keeping away from them. The thing smiled, this soul thought he could hide his memories. What a mistake! By doing so with so much rage, he was just designing them their next meal. The tentacle cut through all the layers the man had set to protect his memory, tearing apart everything on its way in. He scattered into pieces images that seemed to be his childhood. The thing threw to the other voices images of his parents to keep them busy while he headed to the tender and sweet memory the man was hiding with all his heart.

The voices deepened their fangs into the memories of Booth's parents, and started to rend it, as they all wanted a piece of it. Busy, they didn't spot the wicked thing that stopped before the last layer of hope that protected Booth's memory. Its claws slashed the last layer into thin shreds. Leaving a path of tears on its way in, the strongest among the voices deployed his claws and ripped out the memory to suck the life from it.

Images of mistletoe, and sweet perfume seeped from Booth's mind as the thing fed onto the memory of a kiss he dearly hung on to. With all his strength, Booth focused on the soft lips that caressed his. The taste of her mouth was slowly replaced by an acrid smell of rotted body.

He yelled into the night, calling her name, he wouldn't forget, never.

The memory was sweet into the mouth of the thing. Giggling of pleasure, the thing sipped avidly the memory, she wanted to suck it all, and leave him dry. Suddenly, the thing screamed as the memory started to burn.

A white bright light shone, cutting through the veil of darkness that surrounded Booth. Splashing the crawling things that crept into the obscurity, the bright light burned everything on its way. Booth blinked at the ray of light over him. And then, everything spun as he was sucked in harshly by the light. Thrust upward by a violent whirlwind of bright light and astounding voices, he found himself floating again. Blinded by the light around him, he could only hear voices calling him. Then slowly, the light dimmed, and the darkness flooded his sight again.

At first he had thought the light had come to help him, but now that he heard the voices again, he felt nauseous. It was only a matter of time before the creatures come back and find him. No place to hide, he remembered, not that it really matters to him now. They had taken so much from him. His mind was only an empty shell with no recollection of who he was. The only thing he remembered was a sweet scent invading his senses and making him crazy. He didn't know to who it belonged, as no images came to his mind. Only the feeling of a soft skin under his lips, and the impression to drown into an ocean of a blue crystal.

The voices grew stronger, barking at him. Hell was calling him again.

He curled up, shielding his mind to counter the scavengers that dropped on him.

"... please, I need you..." he heard from far away. Stunned he looked around, and inside the total darkness he discovered a faint light. A small hope grew inside him. Glowing like a beacon the light become stronger as he got closer.

The voices behind him growled at him to stop. Then, suddenly, he went through a thick mist and reappeared falling into a yellow lighted room.

There they were. Two women beside a bed, where a man laid.

Where am I? He thought, and who the hell are they?

He wandered in the room, going from the petite woman to the tall sad one next to the bed. The small woman was humming between her teeth. The song made him feel weird like electricity was running through his body, except he didn't have one anymore. Afraid it was another freaking turn to hurt him, he took some distance between him and the small woman. He collided into a the thick white substance. Anger rose inside him as he realized he couldn't flee the room. Some kind of cloudy barrier was trapping him inside. He turned his anger toward the women, but he felt it melting as his curiosity was drowned to the one with her eyes closed. Floating over her, he stopped few feet behind her. One freaking singer was enough, he thought. He stared at the auburn woman that turned her back on him and hadn't moved. Curious why she had her eyes closed, he decided to fly a bit closer, and he confirmed her eyes were closed, like she was waiting for something. Then, her perfume invaded his senses. The part of the memory he had strongly protected, cropped up, washing away the fear that gripped his soul. A strong and warm feeling glowed in his mind. He knew her. He didn't know who she was, but he was sure she meant something for him. His mind relaxed, finally she might be the key to his freedom, he thought. He flew closer, almost touching her face. From her look, he could see she was exhausted. Small dark bags under her eyes, and her pale features despite the light coming from the candles were all hints she worried for someone. He looked at the bed. Maybe for the man laying there, he thought. Despite the fact he had no memory of her, he felt the urge to comfort her. His thoughts focused on her face, he let his mind stroked her cheek gently. Her skin was so soft, he thought.

oooooo

Softly, a small warm breeze lifted her hair, caressing her cheek.

"Booth?" she muttered. It felt so much like if he was whispering to her ear. She felt her lungs emptying under the realization it could be the part of him lost. Opening her eyes, she turned around hoping to see him beside her, a grin on his face. But a blue glowing cloud was the only thing moving. She could see it, stuck in the top corner of the room. She let her breath go. She had done it. She could see, she could even feel him, but that was only for her.

A smile on her face, she glanced at Maman Anise who was staring at her with stunned eyes. Then her lips curved in a smile.

"You truly are an amazing person, " she stated, surprised.

"Thanks," replied Brennan, "What do we do now?"

Grabbing the small plastic bag, Maman Anise opened it and plunged her hand inside. She brought back a handful of spices and dropped it in a small plate. With a long stick that she had started to burn in the flame of the candles, she ignited the spice. White and yellow sparkles jerked from the plate, leaving a soft musky scent floating in the air.

"We wait..." replied the small womand.

Again, thought Brennan, as her eyes sought eagerly the dim room.

ooooooo

He jerked away, surprised that she had opened her eyes as soon as he had touched her. Could it be possible? Can she feel me? He wondered.

He had assumed he was in some kind of parallel world, but maybe this was the real world. And the name she said, it was kind of familiar, he thought. Booth, he repeated. The word seemed to fit well in his invisible mouth. That might be me, he thought, a bit dizzy as he was feeling giddy to finally have a clue of who he was.

Maybe, there was hope for him after all.

ooooooo

"You should talk to him," said Maman Anise.

Brennan looked at her, puzzled.

The small healing priest nodded to encourage her, "he might not remember who he is, but if he came to us it means there's hope to bring him back," she locked her eyes in Brennan's, "we don't have much time before the barrier collapses, and when it will happen, nothing will stand between him..."

"... and the things that are after him," finished Brennan, as she pictured wild eerie animals chasing him and slashing him into pieces. She bit her lips, swallowing the tears that threatened to shed from her eyes. "How do we know it worked?"

"You'll know," answered Maman Anise, laconically.

Taking a deep breath, Brennan stepped to the bed, and cuddled Booth's hand.

"Booth, if you can hear me... and I believe you do," she paused, gathering her strength as she gazed at his pale features, "...please come back... come back to me..." she swallowed, watching him with intensity. She wanted so much to see him open his eyes and shoot her a cocky smile like if everything had been a very bad joke.

"Please Booth, I know you can hear me. You may think you're lost in a world that you don't belong, that you're alone,..." she stumbled on the words as the image of her partner deadly wounded and alone in this cold darkness appeared before her. "... but you're not! I'm here... You're not alone, believe me..." she breathed heavily, "... Let me be your guide Booth, ... Let me help you to come home," her eyes were now wet, and she started to struggle to keep her mind focus, "Please... Just... follow my voice," she said, as her sobs made her voice trembled.

ooooooo

He stared at her. Her words were so full of emotions and pain. That woman, he thought, well we must be pretty close.

'Partners', the word popped in his mind, blowing by an image of her stressing the same word, "we're ...just partners..." he heard her saying.

He felt his hope melted. If they were partners, well, what made her think she knew him so well. Partners are friends sometimes okay, but the stress on the word was more like to put a distance between them, so why is she here if we are just partners? Don't I have a girlfriend, he wondered? No that doesn't make any sense, he thought. If he was really the guy she was talking about, well obviously he corrected, as he looked at the man uh him...he corrected again... on the bed, and because he recalled her saying the partner thing, then it had to be something stronger between them.

He gazed at the depth of her crystal eyes. A blue crystal ocean doused him as he plunged his stare into her. A long and slow tremor rumbled in his mind. She's the one, he thought terrified. She's the one, I can't remember the face, and yet I still have the taste of her lips in my mouth, he realized. That's her. Her name didn't come up to his mind though, but he felt a wave of joy overwhelming him.

And yet his joy was soon washed away as he deepened more into her stare and got lost into an ocean of pain. He knew if he had been corporal his eyes would have reflected the same agonizing pain that she was bearing with such fierce determination. It was this aching feeling that tear you from the inside when the realization dawn that you lost someone, or that you're about to and there's nothing you can do to change or stop it.

Deep inside it was really hard for him to see her in pain and not being able to talk and comfort her. Even if he didn't remember doing this, he was sure now that there was more behind the being 'partners' thing. He knew it, he felt it in his gut, as much as a part of him was screaming at him to find a way back, or he would never know for sure.

But where should I go? He yelled at the darkness, hopeless.

He turned to the other woman and yelled the same question. But the small woman didn't respond, and it seemed to Booth that the darkness smirked at him as they stayed so damn black behind that misty barrier.

Where? He repeated to Brennan, almost pleading. Where is that damn exit?

If they had that special bond he guessed they had, then she should be able to hear him somehow, he hoped. Her eyes looked around, sweeping the room from the small woman to probably him in the bed, without stopping her gaze where he was. He felt an unbearable pain wrapping his mind. He was lost, she couldn't see him. She couldn't help him. She hadn't even blinked at him. His will fade as crawling voices raked harshly his mind, repeating the same creepy leitmotif, 'you belong to us'.

"No," he fought back, "I don't!"

He would have blocked the voices by putting his hands on his ears if only he still had them. Closing his mind as much as he could he tried to focus on the words Brennan spoke. Eagerly, he tried to discern the words formed by her lips as the voices increased in his mind. She was encouraging him, he assumed, to follow her voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he shouted desperate. "I'm right here!" he felt his frustration rose.

He already trusted her. He knew by instinct that what she was saying, had to be something to help him. But how?

She asked him to believe, he believed. She asked him to come closer, he did. But he didn't see any exit. Where? His mind repeated, where do you want me to go? He yelled at her.

Then he stared into her crystal eyes, troubled and surprised of his sudden outburst.

"Sorry", he whispered, as he flew to her, trying to reach her tired face. He stopped petrified, few inches from her cheek. He had yelled at her, he realized. If he could lose his temper like that, it just meant he wasn't the man she should wait for. He wasn't worth to save. His mind screamed in pain. Who was it, really? he asked to the darkness.

Slowly, he backed away from Brennan, terrified of who he might be.

"I'm sorry..." his mind curled up on himself, all the barriers he had placed to lock the voices out broke down into scattered pieces.

"I'm sorry..." he repeated as the creepy voices started to call him.

He heard Brennan calling desperately the same name as before.

"I... I don't know how to come back..." he whispered, sadly, "I ... don't know who I am... Maybe..." he struggled to push the words out, "...maybe... I'm not him," he looked at the body, laying peacefully on the bed. He didn't recognize himself in this man, "... and I'm lost like all of them..." he added seeking the darkness beyond the misty wall.

Their screams were louder now. They're coming for me, he thought desperate, I'll never be able to go back. But who said I deserve it, he added sadly.

"You're mine!" growled a dreadful voice.

Booth froze. With horror he witnessed an ugly greyish hand with sharp claws tearing apart the wall behind Brennan.

"What the hell!!" he spilled.

ooooooo

Brennan glared at Maman Anise, nervous.

"It's not working!" she voiced, afraid. "Where is he?"

The healing priest closed her eyes. Her palms raised to the ceiling, she felt the place. "He's still here!"

Scanning the room, Brennan stopped her eyes on the man laying in a hospital bed. She squeezed his fingers between hers.

"Please Booth, follow my voice. Trust me..."

She looked at Maman Anise, helpless.

The little woman dropped her eyes under Brennan's stare. She's also helpless, thought Brennan. What am I going to do if he doesn't come back, she realized painfully? Booth... she pleaded, imploring his god or whatever was in command to let him come back.

Then, a sudden gust of freezing wind pushed tufts of her auburn hair in her face and blew the candles set on the night table, leaving small traces of smoke behind. The room was plunged into darkness, only Brennan's candle shone in the middle of this chaos. Then the temperature of the room dropped quickly from too hot to below zero. Scattered shadows appeared in the room, taking shapes inside the wall. It was like something was pushing behind the walls. But the walls instead of breaking stretched like a slick gum.

"What's that?" she yelled at Maman Anise, her eyes widening under the irrational phenomenon.

"He's losing it," stated Maman Anise, sadness in her voices. "I told you this could happen."

"Yes you did," replied a scared Brennan. "But we're not going to lose him!" she shouted. "Booth!" she screamed, her lungs burning. "Booth, stay close of the light!"

Then, a loud crack came from behind her.

She turned around to look and froze as she saw a black stain spreading on the wall. It seemed like the thing behind had started to seep from tiny cracks in the wall and was making its way in. She held her breath as the entity gathered itself on the other side in a thick black cloud.

"Booth!" she screamed trying to cover the loud whining of the cracking wall. "This," she said, shaking, "wants your whole soul, Booth... You still have a chance if you connect or join your other part..."

"Please Booth," she said hastily, "find your other part, you must assemble yourself."

ooooooo

"Assemble myself,"he repeated as he stared at the long and dry arm that came out of the wall. "But..." he stopped, as a painful memory surfaced.

It was so painful that the things hadn't take it away from him, staying even as far as possible from it, as they were scared. Focusing, on the pain, he remembered a red light coming from some kind of box and deepening like a burning blade inside his flesh,... inside his body.

The thing behind Brennan was now pulling its head from the opening, revealing slimy fangs under a large greyish jaw.

"Mine," repeated the thing, leaving slicky drops of slime to drip on the floor.

Booth turned to the man in the bed. He was this man or he had been a long time ago, he thought. He felt the acrid stench of the creature behind him. He knew what he should do...but... the woman, he thought, as panic submerged him. He turned, facing the thing that had completely stepped out of her darkness. The thing was curving her head against the ceiling and leaning dangerously over Brennan.

But she didn't seem to notice it. One hand cuddled around the candle, the other in his real but limp hand.

"If you want me," he yelled angrily at the thing, "Then come and get me!" he said, as he flew to get Brennan out of harm's way.

"Stupid, little thing" growled the creature, as her steps shook the room.

Her yellow evil eyes pointed to his body in the bed. "I'll consume your soul from the inside... and then, I'll kill them after they both witnessed my resurrection," scorned the creature as she rushed to Booth's body.

"No," screamed Booth.

He flew as fast as he could toward his body. Diving for his life and soul as the creature penetrated his flesh. He screamed, as the evil soul burned his body, and scorched his soul. One thought crossed his mind as he lost it in the darkness. "I was really this man."

ooooooo

An animal scream echoed painfully in the room as the only candle blacked out, leaving both woman in a terrible silence.

"Booth," formed Brennan's trembling lips. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dripping to the floor as she dropped the lifeless candle. It seemed her heart had stopped to beat after she heard that awful howl. Like a beast soaring from hell.

"No," she mumbled, falling apart on his cold body. She couldn't stand, her legs were just numb appendices under her.

"Please, if there's a god... like you said, he can't do that!" she pleaded, muffling her sobs on the sheet that covered his chest.

' Pom-' she heard, echoing in his chest.

Raising her watered face, her eyes caught the small leap on the monitor.

She blinked, swallowing her sobs. Wiping the tears with the back of her hand, she talked slowly, afraid she had imagined that small leap on the flat line.

"Is he..." she said unable to finish as she held her breath.

Maman Anise frowned as she stepped next to Brennan and lighted a new candle. The faint light drew flickering shadows on Booth's face. Both women gazed at him, trying to catch any glimpse of motion.

"He's alive, yes," stated the small woman.

Brennan let her breath go.

"But we have to wait to know what was brought back," she stated, "I'm sorry..."

Brennan stared at her with glassy eyes. He's back, only her partner could do that, she thought. That's all she needed to know for now. That's all that mattered.

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ooooooo

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Okay, as always I'm counting on you to review and give me your thoughts...


	21. faith

**Author's note :** Okay, it's almost 2 am so I hope I got everything right...

Thanks to everyone who reads and keeps following this story, and a special thanks to one of my friend, Chaps, who helped me to get some time off to work on this chapter...I won't say how, but he knows...:)

**Warning :** mention of torture

**Disclaimer:** as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

ooooooo

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' Pom-' that had been the most wonderful sound she had ever heard in her life. He's coming back, repeated her mind like a mantra, he's coming back!

It had been two hours, since she heard it. Two hours since the room had been back to normal. The cracks on the wall, the black cloud, everything had vanished when they had turned the light on. Two hours since Maman Anise had told her she wasn't sure it was him. But Brennan knew it was Booth. Something had changed in the room. She could feel it, even if it was irrational 'to feel', she didn't bother to argue with herself anymore. Booth had come back. The faint heartbeat appearing on the screen was all she needed for proof. The rest just didn't matter.

She closed her tired eyes. Her cheek rested on the small part of his skin uncovered with dressings. Then, she focused on his chest waiting for the next ' pom-'. It came after a long and quiet wait. It was short and weak, like it came from another dimension, but still, it was there. His heart was beating.

She let her breath out. In two hours, she had only heard few heartbeats. It should have scared her that his heart rate was so low, but she knew it was better than none. She knew it a start before his body returned to normal. And going back to normal was going to take some times. Now, the only question that really nagged inside her mind, as she laid exhausted half leant on her partner, was Maman Anise's last statement. The small woman had left when Brennan had heard his first heartbeat, the first ray of sunshine in days. The old woman had told her she would be back soon. But before leaving, she had warned Brennan.

"We have to wait, to see what was brought back!"

A chill ran down her spine as she remembered those words. Only Booth could be back, repeated her mind. What else could it be? Well, she had a clue about the else, as Maman Anise had told her about the angry spirits waiting for a new body to enter this world, but that was crazy. Though, she had to admit she had witnessed a lot of crazy things lately. But that! No way Booth would have stepped aside as something else was taking over his body. Warriors fight to the end, repeated her mind, and Booth was a warrior.

She sighed deeply, letting her hand stroking aimlessly his bandaged chest. She was hoping her touch would help him to come back more quickly. As a fuzzy light clouded her vision, she felt her mind drifting into sleep. She fought to stay awake, but her body didn't respond, even when she tried to lift her head from his chest. But she quickly leant back on him. She was too exhausted to move. Darkness slowly wrapped her in its arms, and soon the room was quiet. Only a faint heartbeat appeared once in a while to disturb the flat line on the screen.

ooooooo

Half tangled up with her partner, that's how the nurse's on guard found them. She shook her head slowly, as she looked at Brennan. That woman had probably lost her mind, thought the nurse. Holding desperately on the hope to see her friend wakes up after a cardiac arrest and no resuscitation was just silly. In her carrier, she had seen a lot of weird and hopeless things. But this one, it was just both in the same time. She knew that the loss of someone you dearly loved could be devastating. However, after twelve hours and a flat line to prove her wrong, the woman should have started to realize the hard truth by now. She sighed and walked to check the vitals. She scorned, what vitals could she found on a dead man anyway.

She looked at the monitor, where the only light of the room was coming from. A straight and steady line was glowing continuously on the monitor. Nothing could change that, thought the nurse. She was about to turn around and leave, when her eyes caught an unexpected glimpse of a beep on the monitor. That's strange, she thought, frowning. Staring at the screen, she waited to check if she hadn't imagined the beep, after all, it was past midnight, and she really had a long day. She knew damn well, how one could see things when one expected it. Her eyes stuck on the screen, she waited about a minute before giving up.

She turned around and headed to the door. She would call the tech tomorrow to fix that monitor. It was the only rational explanation. Though it could be because the woman was tangled up with him. A disconnected captor might always have read her signals if she was leaning on it. The nurse opened the door. Either way, she would have to report that to the doctor in charge. She shut the door quietly behind her. Even if the woman was going nuts, she didn't want to awake her. The sad realization of her loss would come anyway, sooner or later. So what was one more night of hope, thought the nurse as she headed to her desk.

ooooooo

A humid stench woke her up. Her body seemed too heavy for her, as she tried to raise from the damp concrete floor, taking support on her hands.

Slowly, she took a look at her surroundings. Squinting the thick layer of obscurity, she was finally able to make out some greyish walls far around her. As she stepped toward the closest, she noticed an opening on her left, from where escaped a thin yellow ray of light. After tripping several times on the rough ground, and awkwardly getting back to a stable stance, she discovered a cold metallic door. The light was pouring from the bottom, casting a small squared beam on the doorway. Grabbing the handle, Brennan pulled on the door to her. The rusted hinges squealed like a croaking crow, echoing in the corridor. She frowned. For a quiet move, she hadn't done so well. Despite the screams of the door and its heavy weight, she was able to open it to check outside. From the door ajar, she peeped at the corridor. Seeing no one, she stepped in the dim amber light. On the brownish ceiling, light bulbs were hanging loosely, giving to the narrow place a creepy feeling of being stuck underneath. And it just smelled like dirt, thought Brennan, as she tried to suppress a rising nausea. That smell remembered her to well the time when she had been buried with Hodgins. Focus Tempe, she told to herself, no creepy idea, not now!

As the light drew dancing shadows on the humid walls, she walked slowly to the nearest door. Like the one she had opened, the door was made of a thick layer of black melted steel. Its blue paint long gone, the door was now dented and covered at some place with grey moss. In its middle, she noticed a rectangular opening closed by a metallic panel. Quietly this time, she slid the panel and peeped at the room. The place was dark like the one she had come from, and she didn't see anything. As she was about to slid back the panel, she moved her head away from the opening allowing more light to sneak inside the dark place. The amber light reflected on something metallic in the middle of the room. Squinting to adjust her vision, she distinguished two long chains descending from the ceiling. As her eyes slid the long of the metal rings, she discovered a body hanging heavily by his arms. His head rested limply on his shoulder. She took a deep breath before peering at his face, her heart pounding hard in her chest. The ivory color of his eyeballs told her that life had abandoned the man at least twenty hours ago as the dark skin of his face was starting to show the first stage of rot.

She stepped back allowing herself to get her breath back. For a moment, just a brief moment she had expected to see Booth. She stared at the door.

"Where am I?" she said, whispering.

I was in Booth's room, at the hospital. How can I be here? She turned around staring at the corridor. A lump formed in her throat as she noticed all the doors on each side of the corridor. They were all the same metallic door. A jail, she thought painfully, I must be in some kind of jail, and all these doors are cells. She quivered. I must be dreaming. This can't be real! She mumbled. Trying to slow down her heartbeat, she went to another door, and opened the panel. Like the first time, the cell was dark, but as the light sneaked inside only the chains were visible. This cell was empty. She felt her heartbeat slowing down. Okay Tempe, she told to herself, looking at the end of the corridor a hundred feet from her.

"If I am in Booth's dream, then he must be somewhere. I just have to find him," she muttered to reassure herself.

Pacing from the cells on the right and to the one on the left, she glared at each opening. Each time her heart squeezed a little more in hope of finding him, and stopped to beat as she slid the panel. She sighed anxiously. She only had one more cell before the end of the corridor and still no Booth.

Peeping at the last cell, she stepped back as the cell was desert. Looking around, she noticed she wasn't at the end of the corridor as the walls curved like a snake and turned into a narrow tunnel carved in the rock. Stepping inside, she soon realized her feet were deepening into a dark and red soil covered with a thick layer sand. After a minute, she found herself in front of a descending staircase dug in the rock. An irrational fear squeezed her chest, making her breathing shallow and hesitant.

She swallowed, staring at the dark mouth before her. She closed her eyes to erase for a minute the vision before her. This isn't real, hammered her mind. And yet her heart was beating so fast she was afraid it was going to explode. Gulping for air, she opened her eyes slowly. If Booth was there, she couldn't let her fear stopped her. Not now! Not after all they've been through.

"I know you're there Booth," she said aloud, daring the darkness to stop her, "hold on, I'm coming!"

Exhaling a deep slow breath, she engaged herself on the first step of the stair. As a welcome, long harsh moans soared from the earth's belly and resounded in her ears and bones. Shivers ran down her spine as an echo of the screams of pain. Continuing her descent, a cold humid whiff of sweats slapped her in the face. Heaving, she let her left hand slid on the humid wall to guide her and keep her from slipping on the slick steps. Slowly, her eyes got used to the darkness, although the screams increased. Her muscles tensed, as the last scream tore the obscurity. Her gut twisted restlessly as to flee the danger. That last scream had been a cry of agony. If she had been a believer, she would have thought she was slowly slopping down toward hell. Though she wasn't, her partner was. And if her assumptions were correct, and if she was really in another of his dreams, then hell would be a real probability.

At last, she distinguished the bottom of the stairs as a small red light illuminated them. As to gather her strength, she took a deep breath. A terrifying "no," escaped from her right. Startled, she leant against the wall. The light flickered over her followed by a long electric squeak. Glaring at the narrow tunnel, Brennan walked slowly toward the gut-wrenching sound. As a small fear found its way to her mind, she glanced behind her from time to time. She had a nagging feeling as if someone was observing her. Irrational she thought as she pushed the idea aside. The stirring squeak increased as she turned to her left.

She froze as she had reached the same kind of metallic door, she had already opened a couple of times. Quietly, she slid beside the opening as the panel was open. She felt her heart pumping fast the blood in her chest as to maintain her from swaying. Holding her breath, she peeped at the cell. Her eyes met the back of a man wrapped in a creamy long loose-fitting robe with black sleeves and a dark hood. As he moved aside, a man hanged by his arms appeared in the middle of the cell. The color of his skin had turned into a reddish pale, and his protruding ribs gave him a withering aspect. His chin rested limply on his chest. Brennan clenched her hand into fist. Please, she prayed, let him be alive. She felt tears wetting her eyes.

Another man dressed as the first one came from behind the poor broken soul and stung a metallic goad in his back. As the electricity ran through his body, the prisoner arched his back and pulled on the chains, revealing his face to Brennan. She held her breath as their eyes connected, and she saw the pain soaring from deep blue eyes. Screaming, his eyes implored her to kill him and end his suffering. Shocked, she turned from the door and leant her back against the wall, breathing heavily. It's not him repeated her mind. Focus Brennan this is a dream, she repeated, find Booth and get the hell out of here! Raising her eyes, she prayed whoever was in charge over there to let her find her partner alive.

Focusing on her breathing, she let her mind raced as she processed what she had just witnessed. The men's clothes looked like middle east fabric. That and their large beard, could mean she was indeed in the middle east. But where was Booth? And why this place? She wondered.

Looking around her sight deepened in the small dim tunnel. Few other doors appeared along the carved walls. Ducking to pass the cell where the panel was still open, she continued to the next door with a sudden realization in mind. It was HELL!... Booth's own hell, she knew it now, and it was urgent that she got him out of here.

Still reeling from her discovery, she rushed to the next door and found it was ajar. The cell, poorly lighted as the whole place, didn't seem inhabited. She stepped back and headed to another door. After opening several doors on empty cells and bumping in others where she disgustingly found lifeless bodies, she had counted four until now, she started to feel her hope melt with each door. Was it possible that her partner wasn't there? If so, then why was she here? And more important where was he?

A cold pain gripped her heart. She clenched her teeth forcing her ideas to focus on the present. Nothing was done yet. Heading to the next cell, growls echoed in the corridor before its suddenly shut. Brennan slid to the door as voices came out of the cell where they were torturing their prisoner, shortly followed by both men. Without even looking in her direction, they crossed the corridor and entered in another cell leaving the door open. Squeals of metallic chains dragged on the rough ground increased before she saw two guards dragging a blond guy into the same cell. The door shut behind them in a thud. Loud yells that Brennan recognized as Pashto started followed quickly by the sound hard blows breaking bones.

Swallowing the rush of adrenaline and the anger that rose inside her, she slipped toward another door on her left, hoping this time she would find him. Sliding the panel on its groove, an awful stench filled her lungs. Suppressing a heave, she peeped at the opening. Again, the cell was plunged in total darkness, and she had to squint to make out what was inside. The obscure room didn't give her enough to let her think this cell was inhabited. Sighing helplessly, she was about to close the panel when her ears caught the sound of raking chains. She froze, listening carefully, but the sound had disappeared almost immediately.

"Booth?" she called, suddenly nervous. "It's me...it's Brennan!"

She waited holding her breath. But the cell remained deadly quiet.

"Is anybody there?" she tried, her voice a bit hoarse.

Her heart squeezed into her chest, waiting.

"Booth? Please, answer me!" she pleaded.

Terrifying screams escaped from behind her. She gulped, realizing the guards were torturing another victim. Shutting her eyes, she hoped Booth hadn't been one of these screamers. Something moved inside the cell, as reacting to the screams. She clearly heard the sound of metal clinking, and raking the soil. But it seemed weak and muffled as if the thing who made it was restrained.

"Who's here?" she tried again. "Booth, if it's you, and you can't talk, just make a sound!"

The cell returned in a deep silence.

"Booth!" her voice was now imploring for an answer, for anything that she could hang on to, "Please!"

Another raking sound of chains followed by a muffled cough was her only answer.

Taking it as a yes, she grabbed the cold handle, "I'm coming!" she muttered for the person inside as she slid the lock.

Pulling the heavy door to her, she felt a force tugging it on the other side, fighting her.

"Booth" she called, surprise by such a strength, "I came to help!"

But the door resisted. The iron handle deepened in her palm. She clung to it, but the more she pulled and the more difficult it became to keep the door open. Clenching her teeth under the effort and as fierce determination, she stuck her right foot on the wall to give her support and pulled with all her strength left. The rusted hinges hissed under the force applied on them. The door opened slightly. Still gripped onto it, Brennan discerned a small human shape curled in a dark corner.

"Booth!" she yelled, hoping it was finally him.

"He. Is. Mine." A dreadful voice growled from the depth of the cell.

Then, the force increased and the handle slipped from her hands, leaving a long slash on her palms. In a big wham, the door slammed shut.

As she lost her grip, Brennan fell backwards, hitting heavily the dirty ground. Coming from nowhere, she felt an invisible force dragging her away from the cell.

"No!" she yelled, "Let go of me!"

She saw the cell slowly disappeared from her vision as she fought idly, arms and legs punching and kicking at invisible strings.

"Booth..." she kept screaming, not caring to warn the guards anymore as she was seeing her fear becoming true. It had to be him in that cell, and something or someone was keeping him away from her. Rage overwhelmed her as she couldn't escape from the iron grip. The thing pinned her roughly against a wall, sending stars dancing before her eyes. Her head rolled on the side as her body felt suddenly very heavy. Blinking, she saw the walls dissolving in a dark mist.

"No," she hissed faintly, her heart lost in that cell.

Then, the wall that supported her vanish with her cry. She tried to get a grip but found only the darkness around her. Surprised, her muscles tensed, and she jolted backwards. Something metallic hit her back before she fell and hurt a cold plastic floor. Breathing hard she opened her eyes and realized she was back at the hospital. Laying messily on the floor near Booth's bed she stared at the room troubled.

The room was still poorly lighted, so the sun hadn't risen yet, she thought.

"Are you okay mam?" asked a concerned voice behind Brennan.

A nurse was standing on the doorway, glaring at her with a sympathetic look.

"Uh... Yes," mumbled Brennan, "...I must have fallen," she answered taking a small stunned look.

"Well, be careful..." replied the nurse, "even if you are in a hospital, it doesn't look good to have people hurting themselves here," she pointed to the chair, "there's less risk on sitting on this," she finished.

Brennan nodded guiltily, as the nurse turned to leave the room. A deep sigh escaped from her lungs. They really needed to get back to normal, she thought. Her eyes went to her partner still asleep. On the heart monitor a persisting flat line glowed in the room. Then, one small flick turned the straight line into a huge mountain on the screen, and as quickly as it happened, everything went back to normal.

She clenched her fist. Something had expelled her from Booth's dream. Her partner was there somewhere in this dark cold world and something had set a barrier between them. Damn it! She cursed. Next time she would be prepared.

She stood, and paced the room, thinking. After few minutes she stopped in front of the blinds. Sliding her fingers between the blades, she looked outside. It was late, and the night would have been very dark without the small lights in the sky. As she raised her chin, a heavy burden weighed on her heart. Even the shining stars weren't able to lighten her mood. She inhaled deeply, her sight lost between the small glowing lights. The universe was so vast, and although complex it was ruled by simple laws. She understood most of them as it was simple logic. But here, the things she had discovered were so hard to believe, and she had so less facts to hang onto. She turned around, letting the blades going back into places.

Her eyes went to her partner caressing his sleeping face. She never thought she would believe in 'magic' not even for someone she cared, and yet she had so much trust in him that the idea of being wrong was just absurd now. A small smile curved her lips. Booth had definitely a positive effect on her.

The light of the corridor bathed the room as someone pushed the door. A small woman ambled in the room.

"Did he wake up?" wondered the visitor.

With the light coming from behind her, Brennan couldn't see her face.

"Not yet," she whispered, frowning.

The visitor let the door swing and it closed behind her.

"What happened?" she asked as she stepped forward in the room, the dim light of the monitor revealing her face.

"I don't know what you mean?"

Maman Anise smiled at Brennan, "Seeing your face, honey, I bet something happened. So what is it?"

"I had a dream," replied Brennan, sighing. "More a nightmare," she corrected.

"It's not surprising. It's even a good news," said the little woman.

"How a nightmare can be a good news!" stated Brennan, confused.

"It means you're still linked!" answered Maman Anise with a small smile.

Brennan dropped her eyes on the floor, thinking.

"Something threw me out of the dream. I couldn't stop it. I don't know what it was, but it seemed very powerful and angry."

Nodding, Maman Anise answered with a small voice, "so... He did bring something with him."

Sadness crossed her eyes as Brennan looked at Maman Anise, "I'm not sure I saw him. It looked like a jail or something..." her voice trailed off, "I don't think we really share this link you're talking about, or I would have been able to stay and help him."

The small woman stepped in the room and grabbed a chair. As she sat, she glanced at Brennan, pointing to the chair next to Booth's bed, "Sit..." she said, taking a soft voice, "we have to talk."

Frowning, Brennan did as asked, and sat in the chair she was beginning to feel like her own skin after all these waiting hours.

"Your friend has been in other realities for too long..." began Maman Anise, "and to come back from these other worlds requires an anchor,... another soul to hang on, and you are this soul," she looked up, "the fact that you've been in his dreams is the best example that you two are linked beyond physical laws," she stated, watching Brennan's reaction, as she looked deeply thinking, Maman Anise bit her lips, "... and as you saw it yourself, he's probably too weak to understand what's happening to him. That's why you saw things you weren't meant to see. And if you go back, it won't be pleasant."

Entwining her fingers, Brennan glanced at her partner, lying limply.

"It is urgent to get him back quickly," finished Maman Anise.

Brennan shut her eyes for few seconds as the word 'quickly' echoed in her mind. She had heard this word so many times lately, that the sound of it made her feel sick. A knot formed in her throat. Tiredness and hopelessness invaded her body. She wanted to rest. She wanted Booth back and alive,... Smiling and arguing with her... She wanted her life back and him beside her. She swallowed slowly, managing to keep her emotions below the surface. She couldn't break now. She had to fight. She owed it to her friend and partner.

"How?" the word cracked in her throat.

Maman Anise cleared her throat, "first, you'll have to find him, wherever he is and that might be tricky if there's something with him it will try to deceive you."

"I think I know where he is," answered Brennan, recalling the cell that had triggered her depart.

"Good," encouraged Maman Anise, "when you'll find him, be careful, he might not remember anything. We don't know the extent of the damage done in the urn of terror."

Brennan nodded slowly. She surprised herself as her hands went to connect with his, and she slid them in his soft but frozen palm. She felt a pinch in her heart. The man she knew had always been so warm that she had never imagined that the cold tentacle of death would ever take so much from him.

"Then, you will have to wake him."

"Just like that," cut Brennan sharply, her eyebrows going down.

Maman Anise dropped her sight, ignoring her sudden burst and took a deep breath, "yes! But it won't be easy."

Brennan sighed, "I'm used to it lately!" she said, smirking.

"One other thing," resumed the healing priest, "he will need all your strength and warmth. Don't hesitate to show your feelings, as there's nothing else much more powerful than strong and true emotions in the world of dreams."

"I will remember," replied Brennan.

Maman Anise gave her a sympathetic smile as she stood up, "It's up to you two," she stated, "his fate is in your hands as well as it depends on his will to live," then, the small woman gave her a last advice, "remember, you are linked, use it!"

She nodded to Brennan, waiting for a question. But as she remained silent, the small woman headed to the exit.

Hand pressing the handle, she turned to Brennan, "I will pray for you!" she said as she left.

Long minutes passed in the silent room, while Brennan raked her mind. She had to find a way to get to Booth without being noticed by the thing or find something to prevent her to be thrown away.

So this time she would be prepared. Slowly, she went to the door and locked it. She didn't want to be waked at the wrong time. From the door, she turned staring at the still form emerging from the sheets. The small faint light of the monitor cast shadows on his face, deepening even more his eyes. The whole picture made him resemble to a modern Greek statue. A sad smile crossed her face replaced quickly by a strong grit in her eyes. With determination she stepped to his bed, and carefully, snuggled her body against him. She needed the contact. Her arm slid on his chest as her head cuddled under his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he would have been more fair that she snuggled like this when he was awake. But they had never given it a shot, and if she wanted to go in his dreams once more she had to be really close. She surrendered to the comfort of his body, hoping he would get the chance to get even with her. As she settled against him, his cold limbs made her shiver. It was so wrong, she thought, as she slumbered in cold darkness.

The continuous dripping somewhere near her head tore her away from her sleep. Blinking to adjust her vision, Brennan found herself laid in a dim room. Probably, a cell, she thought, as her probing hands met the cold steel of a chain. Her sight went into the cell and stopped when she found the door. Pushing with her arms, she raised on her feet, and headed toward the exit. She listened for any movements outside, before opening the door. The heavy door came quickly as she wasn't surprised anymore by its weight. Stepping in the corridor she headed directly to its end, looking for the dark opening masking the descending stairway to Booth's hell. As she arrived before it, she stopped taking a deep breath. She could easily hear the screams of agony vomited by the dreadful mouth. Looking angrily at the obscurity beneath her, Temperance Brennan, forensic anthropologist and published author, descended the stairs without a second of hesitation. In her head, echoed the voices screaming from below. Then, the voices were soon joined by guttural and inhuman yells. Her heart pounded fast with each step toward her somber destination. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she glanced into the tunnel for any guards. She had to be lucky, she thought, as it was completely deserted. Turning her attention toward her goal, she dashed to the cell she had been expelled few hours ago. She glared at the rusted door.

As to check for any surprise, she opened the panel. The same awful stench stung her nostril, but this time the odor was stronger. She heaved as the fetid whiff invaded her lungs and threatened to make her puke. Controlling her stomach, she distinguished an acrid smell like urine over the bloody and sweaty whiff. Someone was or had been in this cell for a long period without any possibility to use sanitary commodities. A shiver ran down her spine, this was the worst way to treat a human being. As she opened the door, two chubby rats passed through her legs, squeaking. Not frightened, she pushed them with the top of her foot and entered the cell, shutting the door behind her. This time she intended to stay and find her partner if he was there.

Like the first time, the place was dark and the only light came from the small opening as she had left open the panel. She dearly wanted to call him and make sure he was okay, but she was afraid it would bring back the thing. So, she preferred probing the cell in the dark. And in case it was not Booth, then she would deal with it on time, she thought, willing to take that risk if it meant she might find him.

Stepping slowly along the wall, the deadly silence of the cell struck her. The screams had stopped, freezing everything like if she was stuck between time. Only the rapid pounding of her heart beating beneath her temple echoed in her head. She pouted as the stench seemed to become worst with each step. Then, her hands met a corner, and she turned to follow a rough wall carved in rocks. She counted quietly to estimate the place. She was at seven when her feet tripped into something. Crouching, her hands probed the cold soil before her. As the dirt was damp, a thick mud stuck to her fingers. Continuing to seek what was the thing she had bumped into, she finally found a small bucket made in wood and turned upside down. As she put it back, she caught the sound of a husky breathing not far before her. Holding her own breath, she crawled to the sound, covering her knees with mud.

Her fingers soon met a cold sticky skin that shivered under her touch. As she slid her fingers onto the bare skin, the tremors increased making her feel uneasy. It was like intruding into somebody's private life, but she had to know. As she felt bones protruding beneath the thin skin, she noted three broken ribs before continuing and reaching the shoulders. Judging by the size of them, she deduced it was a male, fully developed, mid - thirties. Laid on his side, his knees were brought to his chest. A knot formed in her throat as she spoke.

"Booth," she whispered, her hands following the line of his shoulder to reach his face.

A thick and sticky beard covered the man's face. But even between the thick layer of rough hair, Brennan felt the swollen jaw indicating the bone was fractured. She winced as she calculated the force of the blow it would take to break a jaw.

"Booth," she repeated, "Booth, it's Bones!"

Still unsure of the identity of the man, her hands slid to his cracked and swollen lips to his noise and eyes. A long deep gash ran through his left eyebrow and to the beginning of his hair, a thick liquid was still pouring from it.

"Please, answer me," she said a bit louder, her voice anxious.

Her mind needed to be sure, even if her heart knew already who it was. The lines curving this face were so well known by her eyes she couldn't forget them. It seemed like her fingers had run along the same known pattern she had mechanically recreated in her head. Even without light, her heart was screaming at her it was Booth.

She leant closer to the man's face, "I'm right here, Booth!"

As her fingers stroke the wet and messy hair, a long and uncontrolled cough struck the man. He curled on himself to allow the tremors to pass through him. Clinks of chains pulled on drew her attention. Descending her fingers the long of his arm, she met a couple of cuts that had dried a long time ago. She estimated, judging by the numerous dried cuts and the loss in muscular mass, that he had probably been kept in this place for at least six weeks. Weeks, repeated bluntly her mind. Who had done that to him? and why? Slow tremors coursed her hands as her skin met two large metallic bracelets around his wrists. With a pinch to her heart, she noticed the bracelets had dug into his flesh, leaving deep crimson grazes.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the tunnel. Instinctively her head turned to the sound as she took a defensive stance, and stood between the door and the man curled in the dirt. Two men wrapped in the same middle east fabric she had noticed before, entered, slamming the door in their way in. A bright light stung her eyes, blinding her for a moment. She blinked.

Her vision still blurred, she yelled at them as she heard them coming, "leave him alone!"

They continued to walk ignoring her. Surprised, she stood in front of them ready to throw them a bunch of kicks of her own and send them as far as possible. But as she kicked the first one in the head, her foot went through his skull without hitting anything. She took a step back, confused. Then, as a reflex she tried to grab the wrist of the other, but her hands only met thin air. Then, the second man walked straight through her like if she was a ghost.

"That's impossible!" she voiced.

And yet, both guards were now standing next to the man laid in the dirt without paying attention to her.She witnessed them yanking him harshly from the floor, his head swaying loosely on his chest. As each guard was holding him by one shoulder, a third man appeared in the doorway. A dark grin curved his lips. He nodded to the guards, and one of them grabbed the hair of their prisoner and pulled roughly his head backwards, revealing his face.

Brennan brought her hand to her mouth, as her eyes crossed the swollen features of her partner. Her heart stopped in her chest, as she met his eyes. Glassy and hollow, it seemed the sparkle of life she had always admired had deserted them a long time ago.

"Booth," she muttered, "what have they done to you?"

As the light flooded now the cell, she could see the full extend of his injuries. His bare chest was showing marks of repeated beating as his skin was covered with dark brown bruises. His bare feet were limp and rubbed the floor limply like he couldn't stand on them anymore. Her lungs emptied. She knew where and when she was. A single tear rolled on her cheek as she realized she was in one of his memory. She understood now why he had never talked about it. Why he had avoided the subject once at the hospital. She remembered his face turning pale and his eyes losing the joy he used to shine through them as she had brought the subject with his x-rays. As always he had tried to wash away her questions with his charming and yet unconvincing smile and a small joke, but she knew better. It was hell. And talking about it was like allowing the memory to make it real before your eyes.

Clenching her jaws she assisted helpless, as the man who spoke with an oriental accent acted like the leader.

"Your companion had given us everything." he dropped sharply.

Booth shot him an angry look, his muscles tensing in the grip of the guards. But it seemed he had used all his strength left as his restless body swayed back limply between the guards, breathing hard.

The leader smiled seeing his reaction, "As a reward, he would be spared!" he sneered and shot a look of contempt to Booth, "He said you shot our Mullah with no orders and showing no remorse for your crime ..." his voice increased, "... we aren't animals like you," he spit on the ground, and looked at Booth, "that's why you had been judged. Our judges regarding your companion's testimony had declared you guilty of the crime."

As he stepped closer to Booth, face inches to his eyes, he deepened his angry sight into his prisoner, "you will be executed at dawn for your horrible crime," he said taking a disgusted look.

"No you can't!" screamed Brennan, as she dashed into Booth's tormentor and punched him. But her fist passed through him and flew toward Booth. Before she could stop her move, her fist went through him as well. Confusion made her sway, and she took awkwardly a step back. She couldn't touch anything, why? Frozen, she saw the leader leaning to Booth.

He whispered to his ear, "I arranged everything for your body to be mutilated," he paused, enjoying the fear that seeped from Booth's eyes, "nobody will come... and no one will ever find you!"

Satisfied, he turned, heading to the door.

"You can kill me," threw Booth, in a panting voice. A dangerous glare sparked in his eyes, "but be sure..." he continued, pushing hardly the words to come out of his mouth, "...be sure...I'll take you with me!"

Taken aback, the leader turned to Booth, stunned by the sudden burst of will from his prisoner. He thought he had broken the man a long time ago. Was he wrong? He stepped forward, looking at the battered man before him. The man couldn't stand on his own if it wasn't with the tightening grasp of the guard. A dark grin appeared on his face, he was a wretch, nothing more. They had killed the soldier in him a long time ago. And no threat from any unbeliever will ever scare him.

"It's time you realize you're alone," shot the leader. "All...alone..." he said, before barking orders in pashto to the guards, and turning around to leave the cell. A smile curved his lips as he heard his men tossing roughly the american in the dirt and starting the beating.

As the guards threw her partner violently on the muddy ground, Brennan reacted immediately and plunged to receive him. But she saw with horror his face going through her chest and hitting the floor in a thud.

"Booth," she mumbled, as her legs gave up, and she crashed on her knees beside him. She didn't feel the ground under her anymore as a light sensation a floating in the air invaded her body.

The guards stepped toward Booth, pulling out grey sticks from their belt. They whacked his back leaving trails of blood into his flesh. Muffling his faint moans, Booth curled to himself in a futile attempt to protect his organs. Brennan assisted lifeless, as the guards had noticed his protective stance and were now kicking his stomach to break into his chest.

Two against one, her mind repeated sharply, he wouldn't hold for long. As to show her she was right, one of his arm dropped for a second leaving an opening. A hard kick went through it and penetrated deep into his ribs, crushing the bone. Gulping to find his breath, he left another blow passed through his guard. The second kick hit him right in the face, disorienting him and leaving his chest unprotected. Brennan watched in pain as he laid on his back, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth and the guards battered his chest vehemently with their sticks. Unable to protect himself, his arms dropped loosely into the mud.

Then, one of them stopped. Rubbing the sweats that bathed his forehead with the back of his hand, he left a red line on his skin. The other looked at him confused as he asked him something in words Brennan couldn't understand. His comrade shot him a dark smile before heading to the door. The remaining guard glanced at his friend leaving, before kicking Booth in the ribs one last time and heading to the door. In a loud clink, he shut the door behind him, plunging the cell into infinite darkness.

In shock, Brennan stayed quiet. After what she had just seen, it had been a miracle Booth had survived, and that she had ever met him at the Jeffersonian. The chilling mud under her knees soaked slowly her paints as she let all the tears she had held rolled freely on her cheeks. Feeling the cold ground numbing her legs she slowly realized she could feel again her surroundings. With the back of her hand, she wiped quickly the salty water from her eyes. Sitting beside her partner, she heard his shallow breathing echoed in the room. Her trembling fingers met his face covered with sticky blood and mud.

"I'm right here, Booth!" she muttered, trembling, "I'm right here!" she repeated as she wrapped him in her shaking arms, and swayed slowly to comfort him.

A faint hope lighted her soul, as his weak voice soared through his broken body, "you're..." he hissed in a moan, "you're...an angel?"

A weak smile appeared on her lips, "yes..." she breathed deeply, "I'm here for you..." she muttered to his ear, stroking gently his hair, "I'm here for you, Booth," she snuggled her face in his neck, hiding her tears. The cell was cold and so dark she couldn't see his face, and yet she felt his warm and weak breath brushing her neck. Swaying slowly, she felt the body in her arms slowly giving up to exhaustion. As she ran her fingers in his hair, she felt a piece of dried blood sticking a tuft of hair.

"Booth, do you remember me?" she tried.

His slumbering voice answered her with a muffling " ahh... ngel... " he mumbled.

"It's gonna be okay, Booth," she replied caressing his cheek, "just try to remember... this is your memory. It's not real Booth, it's just a dream," she said trying to be convincing, but her hope faded as she realized he was barely conscious. "It's just a dream, Booth... just a dream!" her broken voice echoed in the cell.

She waited anxiously for any answers, but he remained desperately quiet.

"I'm sorry..." she said sobbing as she pressed her forehead on his, "this is all my fault. You're here because of me... because a psycho wanted to hurt me," she swallowed her tears, "and he succeeded. He hurt me more than he could ever imagine..." she let her words floated in the room, "Please!!... come back. I need you Booth."

Why him? Screamed her mind. Why did it take her so long to realize what he really meant to her? "just ... come back" she whispered.

She felt the cold from his body pouring into her soul. And for a brief moment she was cold, cold and empty as he felt inside. No future, no past except for harsh painful memories that threatened to drown him. He had no childhood. The name of his parents had vanished. And as their faces were only blurred ghosts to him, he had lost his identity while fighting for his life. Life that he couldn't reclaim without the simple knowledge of who he was and where he belonged. In this brief moment, Brennan felt the loneliness that his life had become. Somewhere deep between the painful layers of war, tortures and kills that wrapped his mind, she caught the tiny thread of a feeling seeping slowly. A warm feeling of peace like he was complete. Then the feeling broke and she felt his mind scattered again, seeking desperately for a piece of identity.

Breathless she opened her eyes. They were still in the gloomy cell, though she felt a light sparkling inside her. Sharing that moment with Booth had given her a hint to help him, she hoped.

"You have to remember Booth. You're a special agent for the FBI. You work with me, Temperance Brennan at the Jeffersonian..." she paused hoping for a reaction, "You always call me Bones...I didn't like it...but...I guess I got used to it..." her voice trailed off.

Her fingers stroked his cheek, "can you feel that Booth? It's me...It's Bones."

He needed to wake up, she thought, if she wanted to get him back.

In a burst, the door slammed open revealing a tall man on the threshold. The bright light of a torchlight cast its way into the cell cutting through the darkness. Scanning the room, the light stopped on Brennan and Booth.

Suddenly, she lost the contact with Booth. His body slipped through her ghostly hands and his chest dropped straight into the mud, his head rolling on the side limply.

"I found one sir!" yelled the man at the door. Stepping inside the cell, two other men entered the cell in a rush.

"Is he alive?" asked an older man with a cap.

"Don't know sir!"

As the older man stepped inside the cell and kneeled next to Booth, Brennan noticed his sand like uniform. He put his riffle on the floor, and pressed on Booth's throat checking for a pulse. A faint groan escaped her partner's lips, lightening her heart. He was hanging on.

"God, sergeant..." dropped the young soldier.

"Yeah, you can say that kid!" cut the sergeant, as he noticed Booth's injuries, "call the med team and tell them we need an extraction ASAP!"

"Yes sir!" obeyed the young man before dashing into the tunnel.

"Miller," called the sergeant, "come over here!"

The other soldier, Miller, who had stayed on the doorway, joined his superior.

"Do you think it's him sergeant?" Miller asked, "I mean in this region they were only two to disappear... but if he's one of them..." his voice trailed off, "... How did he survive that long, sergeant?"

The sergeant turned a sad gaze to him, "not sure..." his voice trailed off, "but if it's our man, I tell ya, he's got a damn angel to take care of him. Two weeks in the hands of those bastards can turn any Rambo into a crying Bambi, so eight... well I hope the kid hadn't lost his mind."

So that's how it happened, thought Brennan, they had found him.

The sergeant leant close to Booth, "hear me son?"

A weak moan raised from her partner. "Hang on son," said the sergeant, "we gonna bring you back home!"

Then the scene before Brennan blurred slowly. She could only hear the voices around her, barking orders to lay him on a stretcher. And everything turned into a bright shining light that blinded her. The world spun around her. A small feeling of dizziness overwhelmed her before she fell backwards into the light.

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_**Okay another small cliffie...sorry... But if I wanted to post sooner I had to cut somewhere... So don't kill the writer, and tell me if you like the way I'm heading.**_

_**Booth will be back... But coming back from this nightmare had to leave scars...Remember he lost some of his most cheerful memories in the fight, so he can't be up and about so soon.**_

_**Again, reviews are most welcomed and help to type faster.**_

_**Pashto is a language spoken by a part of the Afghan population...**_


	22. identity

**Author's note:** Sorry for the delays. It's been a tough week and it's not finished yet...big week end ahead...

Sooo, I'm posting this chapter as I'm half sleepy... soo if you see any mistakes, please let me know...

**Disclaimer:** as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

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Her fall lasted an eternity. The world around her was bright and misty like the sun behind heavy hazy clouds. Strangely, she felt warmth coming from the fog as her body went through white thick cotton layers. After what seemed a life time, she smoothly landed on a damp soft grass. Looking up, the bright light had been replaced by a deep black sky. Scattered stars glowed like tiny beacons far away over her. Lots of questions raked her brain as she gazed at the sky. How can she fall from war and torture to these beautiful stars?

Her thoughts drove her back to Booth. She had to find him. Raising on her elbows, she looked around. She was laying on a small square of grass land, she noted, just near a crossroad. Glowing buildings soared from the ground around her, pointing their shiny spikes into the dark sky. Frowning she stood, and glanced on her left. Her jaws dropped a little as she recognized the place. She had been there two years ago with Booth. How did he call it?...sin city. She sighed, she was in Vegas. Why was she here?

As she headed to the street, a black limousine with black windows passed slowly before her. Her eyes followed the car as it turned on the right. Suddenly, her breath stopped as she spotted a man crossing the street. He strolled to a large entrance under a long blue glowing board where she could read, CASINO. As he disappeared inside, something in his way to walk and stand twisted her gut, like an irrational feeling.

"Booth," the word seeped softly from her lips.

Great, she thought, she had found him, and this time it had been a lot easier. Without thinking, she dashed to the glowing building, crossing the street as angry cars horned at her. Stepping on the red carpet leading to the entrance, two men in black suits stared at her from the doorway. Her chin raised, Brennan walked toward the threshold, and entered the bright and shining paradise of gambling.

The burping sound of slot machines rolling and the rattling coins crashing in black mugs struck in her ears. Her eyes scanned quickly the place, searching for Booth. But the place was huge, and she was only standing at the threshold. Anxiously, her sight went from faces staring at rolling fruits, to people counting nervously their money and other wanderers peeping at sweating gamblers. But no Booth. She sighed, dreaming at the time when she was able to find him by her side at one glance. At least, she thought, this was not hell like the last time, and from the way he had been walking, he had seemed fine. With this comforting thought in mind, she crossed the shining rows of sitting gamblers stuck before their brain-washing machine and entered a wide room. Bright light bulbs cast a golden atmosphere over different games displayed on large tables. Feverish people had gathered around games using cards, dice, rolling balls, but still no Booth. Though the place was so crowded that finding him wasn't going to be easy.

Her blue eyes scanning the room, she sought her partner between them as she made her way from a table to another, jostling through the crowd. At the craps' table, a voice shouted "Seven eleven..." making her heart jumped in her chest .

Turning around, her eyes slid from a blond haired woman to a black and then to a grey haired men, to finally stop on messy tufts of brown hair. She frowned as she noticed the wild haircut brushing the neck. Slowly, her eyes slid to the old dark green jacket covering his broad shoulders. The man turned to his right glancing at a tall blond woman. His face, free of any wounds, cast a large smile to the people around him.

A knot formed in her throat as she remembered the same face, eyes desperately closed, and his battered body resting limply in her arms. Walking toward Booth, a faint smile spread on her lips. Teasing sparkles coursed through her muscles as she cut the crowd like a wedge. Stopping next to him, she saw his left arm swung smoothly, sending the dice rolling on the green carpet. Yells soared from the crowd as the dice hit the edge of the table, and jolted backward. Rolling slowly, a three and a four appeared on the faces. Cheers exploded in the crowd.

"Well, that was just for warm up!" he threw smiling, as the croupier pushed a pile of chips in front of him with the dice.

Booth leant on the table, grabbing the dice. Cuddling them in his closed hands, he blew on them, grinning. Then, with the same smooth motion he threw them on the table. Brennan watched as the dice rolled once again, bouncing on the carpet before revealing a one and a six. The crowd burst into loud cheers. Sternly, the croupier pushed a new pile of chips to Booth. Seeing where her partner was heading, Brennan pressed one hand over his arm in an attempt to reason him. But as before, her hand went through his arm as she had no tangible existence in this dream.

"Don't Booth!" she threw hoping he would at least be able to listen to her.

But sadly, she saw him throwing the dice once again, not hearing her advice. She swallowed, wondering how the strong and confident man she had come to know very well had come to this. Stepping forward, her body went through the table. She really had turned into a ghost, she thought, as the table was in the middle of her waist. Then, she turned around to face her partner. As she looked straight into his eyes, she felt a pang in her heart. The sparkle of life wasn't there anymore. And as she looked more closely she noticed dark bags under his eyes. She stepped back realizing, it was not only his eyes, his face too had withered. Besides the missing bruises and cuts, he looked like he had never left that dreadful cell. That terrible experience had left deep marks etching his cheeks and his soul too. Maybe, she thought desperate, as her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, a apart of him had really died there.

Her sad eyes went back to the table where the dice were rolling. It seemed the time was slowing down as they hit very slowly the edge. The yells, the crowd, everything moved in a very slow motion around her, as if she was watching a movie image by image. Then, as she looked at her partner concentrated on the rolling dice, she heard it. A slow beating first. Like a pounding heartbeat, followed by a long heavy breathing. As the breathing increased, she saw Booth's face changing. The small smile that he had shown to the crowd vanished as a gloomy light leaked from his eyes. Troubled, she turned to see why his stare had suddenly changed. As she stepped back and out of the craps' table, the light cast in the wide shining room faded slowly turning into darkness. Only the table, faintly lit remained, with Booth staring vaguely at the darkness.

Louder, she thought, hearing it clearly this time. The same heartbeat pounded faster in rhythm of her partner's breathing. His eyes narrowed as dark shapes gathered around the table. Ghostly faces appeared peering angrily at him. Her voice stuck in her throat as she felt the heaviness of her body returning.

"Booth" she said faintly turning toward him.

But his stare was lost. It was like the angry stares were sucking his life out.

She stepped forward, pulling his arm. Frozen he heaved deeply, as his chest raised harshly under the effort.

"What's going on?", wondered Brennan, why is everything frozen? she thought. "Booth! Where are we?"

But his face turned pale, his eyes locked into the ghosts. Then as she thought he was going to fall, drained of all his strength, the light came back. Cheers greeted them as the dice gave him a two and a five.

"Seven!" yelled the crowd under the winner's magic spell as if nothing happened.

He shot them a faint smile. The croupier's stern eyes stared at him a moment before pushing more chips in front of him. Surreptitiously, Booth searched the support of the wooden table with his hand. He stifled a hiss, trying to get a steady breathing.

"Go! Go! Go!..." encouraged the crowd, clapping in rhythm.

Booth glanced at them, smiling weakly. His sight turned to the dice near his chips. Mouth closed and jaws clenched, he swallowed sweeping the dice with his palm. Then, cuddling them, he blew weakly on them before tossing them on the table with a shaking hand. As the dice rolled, Brennan heard his breath echoing in her ears. Increasing with his heartbeats, she assisted helpless as the room dimmed slowly into darkness. Booth's moves slowed as he brought back his arm on the table to support him, and watched anxiously the dice rolling.

Then, like the first time, the ghostly faces reappeared, peering with ire at Booth. His features lost his color as he noticed them. As if they didn't exist, his attention returned to the dice, focusing his stare on the slow rolling and bouncing on the green carpet. Brennan stared at him as he opened his mouth and gulped avidly, his chest heaving. As he waited for the dice to stop, beads of sweat ran along his temple an to his neck.

Then, the light came back in a wave of yells exploding in her ears. The dice had stopped, shining a three and a four. Mechanically, Booth grabbed the dice that the croupier pushed with new chips.

"Stop, Booth!" she said. She knew he couldn't hear her, but it wrenched her heart to see him gambling and deepening his heart and mind in the game. She was scared. Scared to lose him bit by bit, that he loses himself in the game.

Shaking the dice in his cupped hands, he looked at the crowd, hoping deep down something would stop him. But nothing occurred. Inhaling, he threw the dice encouraged by the crowd, but his face remained close. The crowd shouted staring at the rolling dice in awe. Brennan closed her eyes and swallowed hard as the light dimmed again.

Few hours later, Brennan watched sadly as her friend left the casino, broke. He strolled to a narrow alley on the other side of the street. Head down, she followed him. Her heart had withered at what she had seen. Each time, he had thrown the dice the ghosts had reappeared, haunting him. And she wasn't quite sure if it was the game or the lack of action when the dice rolled that made them appeared. It seemed the game was keeping Booth in the world of the living.

As they faded, she had realized she had witnessed the fight that he was living everyday since his return from Afghanistan. His time as a sniper had left deep marks in his soul. Guilt entwined with fear had nestled its tentacles deep into his heart, burying his will to live. Booth wasn't fighting in Afghanistan anymore, but he was still fighting his own war from the inside. He crossed the damp road just before stepping inside a gloomy alley.

He's on the edge, she thought, staring at his back before he disappeared in the shadow. She knew he had won a part of this fight in the future as she had been able to meet him at Washington. But deep down, she wished she had been there for him.

She sighed, living something he had deeply buried and hid from her, was disturbing. She wasn't mean to see this, not until he had fully agreed to talk to her as he did once at the military cemetery. So why was she seeing all of this? How was this going to help him? She wondered if it wasn't some kind of a trap, set up to keep her busy. Still following him, she engaged herself into the small lighted alley. The main street cast a dim blue light inside the narrow street. Voices echoed ahead of her.

"Hey man," called a tall blond guy as his gaze stopped on Booth. "Me and my buddy, we need some money!" he said, his hand rubbing the hat he had lazily stuck on his head. His tongue wet the corner of his lips as he glanced at another man sitting lazily on a trash can.

"I got nothing," Booth replied dryly, shooting them a gloomy stare, "go away!" he said, as he passed them.

The man with the hat took an offended look, "oh dude, I don't think you clearly see the situation here. I count two of us with my buddy, while I just see one of you!" he scoffed, winking at his friend.

Booth raised his eyes on the arrogant man, "so, you know to count till two..." he dropped, still walking.

The man glared at him frowning, "so... Either you give us all you got, or..." he pulled a small stick from his pocket, and pressed on the side. A blade exited with a click, "... or you gonna have a very bad day!" he added, sneering.

His friend jumped from the trash can and stood beside him, smirking. Glancing at the other guy to evaluate the situation, Booth shot a threatening stare to the man with the hat, "It's already a bad day, dude," he said clenching his teeth. "So if I were you I wouldn't try to piss me off, and I'll go play in my schoolyard before my mum worries too much!"

Wow not good, thought Brennan. Why did he always have to be so grumpy?

Furious the blond guy with the hat tried to stab him with the knife. But Booth stepped back, switching his stance. The blade cut through his shirt grazing his chest. Grabbing the man's arm in the same move, he wrenched his wrist grasping the knife, and sent him flying. The man crashed loudly into the wall near the trash can.

Quickly, Booth turned toward the other opponent who was plunging into his stomach. The shock emptied his lungs and sent both men two the ground. His hand hurt hardly the concrete making the knife jerked away from his fingers. A heavy punch hit his left temple, sending stars before his eyes. Blinking, he shook his head and opened his eyes just in time to see a fist coming from his right. Swiftly, his head avoided the blow, and let the fist crash to the ground in a crack. The man screamed, his hand broken. But Booth was already sending him a good hook into the jaw, and the guy jolted backwards under the blow. He yelled, cuddling his left hand into his chest as he rolled on the ground.

The first man raised on his feet. Greasy papers and smashed cans rolled from his shoulders and clinked on the ground. He shot an angry look to Booth.

"You, " he said vomiting the word, "I'll send you to hell!" he added, wiping the blood from his cut lips with the back of his hand and rushing toward Booth.

Booth stopped his race by punching him right into the stomach. The man's feet left the ground for few seconds under the impact. Gulping he wrapped his arms around his chest to hold his ribs, then he crashed on his knees.

"I'm already in!" lashed out Booth as he circled the man stepping behind him.

He pressed his arm against the man's throat to choke him. His words stabbed Brennan's heart like a blade. It explained so much, she thought. His gloomy behavior, and why the shiny witty sparkle had disappeared from his chocolate eyes. She exhaled a deep sigh, her shoulders dropping. She didn't know. He was his friend, and although he had bottled up so many things, she should have tried to talk to him. But she had been so focused on her own family and her past that she had just left him drift far away from her. Cursing her lack of communication, she swore she would try to make him open up more to her when they would be back.

"Are you done, now?" spitted Booth, pressing the man's trachea.

The man tried vainly to pull his arm out with his hands to break free.

"Idiot!" Booth sighed, as the man's face was turning red.

"Jack!" he yelled.

"Your friend can't help you, " replied Booth, "he kinda broke his hand! " "Not that dumbass!" spitted the blond guy.

Booth's eyes widened. Cold sweat sent shivers along his spine, as he realized his opponents might be more than two. His sight sought eagerly the dark alley before turning to check behind him. All he saw were the shiny bat aimed at his head before it knock him off. His arms went limp as he fell on the side.

Brennan gasped, her lungs empty. She had screamed to warn him. But her voice couldn't be heard in this place, and she had assisted helpless as a very tall guy had stepped behind Booth and swung a bat straight to his head. She wanted to help him, but all she had done till now had been witnessing his painful memories. Come on, Booth, she thought, as she saw the blond guy heading toward him, stand up!

The ground was damp under him cooling one side of his face. He tried to move but his fingers refused to obey. He opened his eyes, and blinked as a warm liquid oozed over his eyelids. His mind in a fuzzy world, he heard heavy foot steps splashing and stopping near him. A hot pain wracked his back as the bat deepened in his ribs.

"So pal," said a voice while a hand gripped his hair and pulled his head backwards, "How do you like this hell?""That's no hell!" hissed Booth. He blinked several times before shooting a cocky look at the blond guy crouching in front of him.

"This is just...pain in the side**.**.." dropped Booth, breathing with difficulties.

The blond guy stood up, throwing an angry stare at Booth.

"Pain in the side," he whistled, as he kicked Booth in the ribs.

Rolling on his side, Booth cuddled on himself coughing.

"Get him up!" the blond guy shot at the man named Jack who had gripped Booth's hair.

Damn it Booth, whispered Brennan, why can't you just shut up? She thought desperate, if he continued to tease them, they were going to kill him. She stepped toward Booth, as Jack yanked him up harshly from the ground.

Suddenly, on his feet, Booth felt his arms pulled backwards. Swaying on his legs, he struggled to break free but his lack of training didn't help, as the man's strength behind him locked him up.

Brennan watched powerless, as both men exchanged dark looks. The blond guy, started to rummage in Booth's pocket. Smiling, he pulled out his wallet.

"Let see what we got here, mister Seeley Booth!" he sneered, as he tossed Booth's id card. Then, he smiled finding a couple of dollars that he quickly crushed in his own pocket. He raised his dark grin on Booth throwing his wallet to the ground. Booth assisted helpless, as his wallet sunk into a puddle of dark water.

"Well you were right," scoffed the blond guy, "you got nothing!" he glanced at Jack, "that's not even enough to pay my laundry!" he said as he showed his shirt stained by garbage.

Raising his sight on the blond guy, Booth saw him flashing a devious smile just before he shot him a nasty punch directly into the ribs. The characteristic crack of a broken bone echoed in the alley, sending tremors through his muscles.

The real fun was about to start, sighed mentally Booth, as the blond guy hit him in the jaw, giggling. With each blow, he felt his body becoming heavy, and weighting more on his legs. His breath shortened. He cursed his lack of training. Back in the day, he wouldn't have let anybody trapped him like that. Since he had left the hospital, he hadn't really had the spirit to stay in shape. Too many things to think about. His thoughts went back to the man hitting him, as the blows stopped.

Tired, the blond guy stepped back gazing at his bloody knuckles. Satisfaction appeared in his eyes as he raised his sight on his gory work. He stared at Jack thinking, before he glanced at his other friend who had quietly joined them.

"That bastard broke my hand, Vince!" hissed the man whining as he cuddled his arm to his chest.

Vince shot him a disgusted look, "Shut up, Dan!"

His gaze went back to Booth, "Find my knife!" he ordered to Dan without even looking at him.

Startled, Dan after a moment of silence, begun to pace the alley grumbling, squinting at he dark ground.

Then, Vince stepped toward Booth. Grabbing harshly a tuft of hair, he lifted his head. Booth felt his neck wrench under the tight grip. His sight blurry, both because of the blood leaking into his eyes and the exhaustion, he was only able make out a swaying shape before him. Taking his time, the blond guy aimed his fist at him and punched with all his anger, striking his left temple. The blow exploded in Booth's skull, sending his head rolling to his shoulder before it went back limply to his chest. His legs gave up under him, and he felt Jack's iron lock tightening around his arms.

Brennan witnessed painfully as Booth couldn't stand on his legs anymore, his feet rubbing weakly the ground to find a grip on. His head sagged on his chest.

Thinking quickly, the question of why she could or couldn't touch things some time was bouncing in her head. Decided to find out to help Booth, she walked toward the trash can. Stepping in shadows, her hand aimed for the green metal. Her fingers met the cold and wet metal. She could touch again, she realized surprised. She wanted to understand why, but right now her priority was her partner. So, she turned toward the sound of beating as Vince, laughing, had found funny to alternate punches to Booth's face and knees deepening into his stomach.

"Found it," yelled a joyful Dan, as he raised a knife in the air.

Vince stepped back and glanced at Dan, "this gonna be fun! Bring it!"

In a haze, Booth noted that the punching had stopped. Why? He didn't know. But he was thankful it gave him some time to catch his breath. He tried to open his mouth to gulp air, but his lips only parted weakly. Inhaling faintly, he felt the cold air filling his burning lungs. It soothed him for a time. But his rest was short as his stomach heaved angrily. Tensing, he shook under a rasp cough. Splashing steps on the damp concrete warned him his relief was over. A warm and fetid breath wrapped his face. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he tensed waiting for the next blows to come.

Suddenly, a loud metallic crush echoed in the alley. As Vince was about to punch Booth, he turned toward the noise.

"Police!" yelled Brennan in the shadows, making more sounds as she kicked in empty cans.

The three men exchanged concerned looks.

"I don't want trouble," Dan winced as he started to rush out of the alley.

"Me too," whined Jack, still holding Booth.

Clenching his teeth, Vince grabbed Booth's collar with one hand and hit him in the gut crushing up his organs. Booth felt his lungs emptied under the crush. His blurred vision darkened as his body went limp in Jack's arms.

Jack shot a stunned look at Vince.

"Let's go," said Vince before scramming out of the alley.

Alone in the alley, Jack let Booth dropped on the concrete as he rushed out too, calling his friends.

"Booth!" called anxiously Brennan, rushing toward him.

Stepping into the light, she kneeled near his still body. Her hand went to check for his pulse, but again she was immaterial, and it just passed through his neck. Sitting helplessly beside him, she felt her anger coursed in her veins. She had to find why she couldn't interact with things and quickly. She looked at the place where she came from. Peering, she noted the place was in shadows and...

That's it! She thought, hopeful. It's the light or the lack of light, she corrected. Her heart beating fast, she ran to the closest shadow. Looking down, she saw a smashed can at the foot of the trash can. Taking a deep breath she crouched and grabbed it. It worked! She thought, it worked! Letting the empty can fell on the ground, she turned toward her partner laid on the floor.

"Booth," she called hoping he wasn't unconscious, "come on, Booth...I know you're awake so get up!" she shot, feeling small tears appearing at the corner of her eyes.

His first thought was that it was weird that he felt so beaten. The last time, he hadn't been unconscious, he thought. The last time? He wondered where he got that idea. He had that strange feeling to re-live a day he had dreamed before. As he knew this place.

A pounding headache drummed under his temple. Yup, he was probably drunk or something, he thought. Cause he didn't remember where he was and who he was. He opened his eyes slowly. Everything was so fuzzy and spinning in his head, he just wanted to ignore it, and fall asleep. Annoyed, he realized something was making a noise that just drilled inside his brain. A faint light seeped through his heavy eyelids.

A glimmer from the street glistened on a small puddle of water as he opened his eyes. Panting, he pushed weakly on his arms. His head was hammering harshly and his temples were beating so fast that his body collapsed back on the floor in a thud. He was ready to slumber into darkness when he heard her. A far away voice, encouraging him.

"Come on, get up!" boosted the voice, "you can do it!"

Panting, he raised on his left elbow, looking in front of him. In a haze, he distinguished the alley. He blinked as he tried to see where the voice was coming from. He could hear it, and somehow it sounded familiar. But as he saw no one he swallowed a big breath, his eyes falling to the damp ground. The tapping pulse beneath his temples wasn't slowing down, and it was hard for Booth to focus on anything beside that damn pounding headache. But at least, the thread of consciousness unveiled slowly the last events. The gambling at the casino, those damn ghostly faces pursuing him, and finally those f g bastards. He had let them beat the crap out of him. He would have never been surprise so easily a year ago. He cursed. He was going down and that thought made him sad. He sighed, looking around him. Sad, yup, he thought. Back in the day, he would have been mad that guys like them could sneak on him so easily, but now he was just feeling sad. Damn, he cursed, what kind of guy am I to feel sorry for myself?

Then, he remembered he was a guy with a wallet few minutes ago, and inside him his gut twisted to answer him. He had something precious in it. Crawling, he used his arms to drag his tired body to the small puddle where he recalled Vince had thrown his wallet. The concrete rubbed roughly his already old paints, grazing his knees as Booth used them to push him further. Finally, he stopped exhausted near the small brownish puddle.

"What are you doing Booth?" he heard, "you should go to a doctor," the voice continued.

Supporting his weight on his left elbow, he turned seeking the voice, but like before there was no one in the alley. I'm becoming crazy, he thought. Then, turning his gaze back to the brownish puddle, he plunged his hand in the cold liquid. As he probed, he met the rough concrete, then a small mushy thing touched his fingers. Pulling the thing out of the water, he recognized his wallet. He let out a sigh. He couldn't afford to lose it. Even if his memory was messed up, he knew it was important to him. Totally soaked, heavy drops of water dripped from the wallet to the ground. Too tired to rest on his elbow, Booth drop on his left side, gazing at the damp leather that was all left from his old life. His head slumped to the side. He shivered as his temple met the cold damp ground. His hands were clinging firmly onto the precious wallet.

She couldn't stand it anymore. Being so far from him, and he was in such bad shape, she had to get closer. So, she decided to step into the light, even if it meant he couldn't hear her. It was irrational but she believed he would feel her presence. So, she went to stand behind him. From the shadows she could only call him as it seemed she was too far for him to really see her, or maybe his vision wasn't that clear. A cold fear pinched her heart. The word concussion and internal bleeding were running through her mind, making her shivering as she sat behind him. As always he didn't notice her, too engrossed at staring at the thing he had in hand. Though as she was under the light cast by the street, she had become invisible again, and therefore he couldn't see her. She squinted as she leant closer.

Sluggishly, his fingers opened the wallet, and probed every inch of the leather. Beside a library card, and a driving license, he found a small picture. Dropping the wallet to the ground, he blinked several times at the picture in his hands.

Behind him, Brennan too looked at the picture, confused. Surprise at first, she had thought it was because of the water. But now as she was bending more, peeping over his shoulder, she saw four people reunited in a big embrace. But that was not what was weird, in fact. She blinked too, as she stared at the picture. Glancing at her partner below her, she couldn't see his whole face but just the sight of one side was enough for her to feel sad for him as she noticed the tears that ran down his bruised cheeks. She bit her lips, feeling her heart sinking a little more with each of his tears as her eyes went back to the picture and the four blurred faces.

Pressing the picture on his wet and dirty shirt, Booth shook slightly under stifling sobs. As tears ran freely from his face, his cry of pain echoed in the alley as he let go of the world around him. Rolling on his back, he felt his mind starting to drift away. He was about to let go when he heard the same voice calling him. Even in his confused state, he could discern angst in it.

Standing in a dark corner, Brennan called him. He couldn't give up like that. She wouldn't abandon him, she thought, not after he had lost so much to try to make it back.

"Booth...listen to me..." she stared at his broken body shaking on the ground.

"You have to hang on... this is only a memory, probably an alternate universe of your life, but the important Booth is that a part of your life. Try to remember and it will come to you...Don't lose hope, Booth...I'm here..." her voice trailed off.

Opening his eyes, he gazed at the sky over him. He didn't bother to check where the voice was coming from as each time he had tried there was nothing but darkness staring at him. Still, what the voice had said echoed in his head as his sight started to distinguish the stars over him. He hadn't understood everything as her words mixed with the thumbing in his head, but some had found a way to reach his ears. He sighed wrapping his arms around his chest and hoping to slow the tremors in his limbs. He did want to remember but oddly the only thing his brain had allowed him to recall were those awful ghosts staring at him. And it all ended in that alley, he thought. Now that sweet voice was telling him to remember, but how? Turning to face the alley, he peered at the small square of paper in his hand. Even the picture from his past had refused to give him a hint. Who he had been and what he had done beside his military background was just a complete mystery to him. Hope, he repeated the word. What kind of hope could really have a gambler like him, who lived in a shanty and ate only three or four times a week.

"It's not real," repeated Brennan, "trust me Booth! ...Remember, you are an FBI agent and have a loving kid," she said.

A kid? Me? He thought, how?

The idea of having a kid shook him, and he tried to sit up. His heart was pounding fast in his chest as he used his arms to support him. Lifting his lower body by pushing on his arms, he pushed on his feet to propel his body half a yard behind him. Repeating the same motions, he slowly made it to the trash can. Then, his arms let go, and he leant his back against the cold metal.

As the back of his head rested on the cold metal, he stared at the alley. Me, having a kid? His tongue brushed softly his swollen lower lips. The characteristic taste of iron invaded his mouth. Every part of his body was hurting, though he had been worse. He wondered how in hell he had let these men overcome him. His eyes dropped to the picture his fingers were still squeezing hardly.

"You have to remember, Booth," uttered Brennan from the shadows, her arms wrapped around her chest. "Please," she whispered.

Booth didn't hear her last word, but even if it was difficult for him to think with his pounding headache hammering under his skull, he did remember doing a thing in this exact alley. It had been a long time ago, he remembered, but he had done it that same very night after the beating. He looked around, frowning, maybe this was a dream. He swallowed hoping it was, because even if he didn't really remember what exactly, he knew what he was about to do, had been really painful the first time.

Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled out a cell phone. From the shadows, Brennan watched as Booth was playing with his phone, pondering if he was going to do it or not. She hoped who ever he called that it would help him to remember. He had to. She knew he wasn't listening to her because he remembered but only because her words had opened a breach in his memory. And for now that's all she desired. A chance to put him on the right path to find out who he was. Her eyes glued on his shaking form leant against the trash can. Yes, she thought, it had to work.

Slowly names appeared on his screen. As he went through the list, he noted sadly that he didn't know any of them, their faces were just blurred vision like the one on the picture. Pressing the dial button after he found that particular name, he sighed hoping this was going to work.

The phone rang several times before the voice of a tired woman answered. He waited trying to put a face on the voice but no images came to his mind.

"Who's there?" asked anxiously the woman after a long silence.

He took a deep breath before answering with a croaked voice, "Hi!"

"Oh God!" the woman dropped on the other side of the line, "Seeley is that you?"

"Yes," he answered in a raw voice and a short breath. He hadn't expected to feel so upset after hearing her voice.

"Your voice!" said the woman, "is that really you?" she asked visibly torn by the rough voice.

"I'm sorry,... I shouldn't have called," Booth said as his finger went to end the call.

"Wait!" voiced the woman, "please, don't hang up Seeley!" she pleaded. "It had been too long since I heard your voice, son."

Son, the word echoed in his mind like it had suddenly given him a purpose to his life.

"Please just tell me how you are?" asked anxiously his mother, "I'm worried about you Seeley?"

"I'm fine, ma," he answered with a trembling voice.

Brennan noticed for the first time his eyes showed fear.

"No you're not Seeley!" his mother said, "I know you and I can tell when something is wrong, so don't lie to me, Seeley."

"Sorry," he whispered, "I..." he swallowed the words.

"Seeley," continued his mother, "It's been almost six months, don't you want to see us?"

Her words struck him harder than any other blow he had ever received. Of course he wanted to see them. How could she say something like that? He was just not ready yet to see them right now. A flow of reasons flooded his mind. As why he had joined the rangers and why he had left the military hospital without telling them where he went. But one thing was sure as he started to remember why he was in Vegas, he couldn't tell her who he had become. It would break her heart. And even if he didn't recall her face and his life with her, he didn't want her to get hurt.

"I do want to see you, mum!" he said pain in his voice as he paused searching for his words, "it's just... I can't right now, I'm sorry! "

"Seeley, please, we're worried about you!"

"Don't!" he said lying, "I'm fine, okay," his eyes looked up at the sky. The stars shone like tiny beacons over him, "I guess, I just wanted to hear your voice, that's all!"

" Ow Seeley," said his mother, "please come back home!"

"I..." he said heaving, as the pain was too much now to bear, small tears escaped the corner of his eyes. He wiped them quickly with his fingers, pressing lightly on his eyelids as if it would create a dam. Tremors in the voice, he said the last words as someone was ripping his heart apart, "I have to go, mum. Love you," as he pronounced the last two words, he hoped she would forgive him.

"No Seeley..." he heard his mother implored on the phone knowing what was happening, he was leaving, and she didn't know if she would ever have the chance to hear his voice again. "Please... Seeley..."

Shaking, his finger pressed on the red button to end the call and made her sobs fade into the night.

Trembling, his hand holding his cell phone dropped loosely to his side. As he had planned the call had been really painful. He swallowed the knot in his throat. Somehow his memory wasn't so confused now. He had recalled his past as a sniper when her loving voice had snapped in his head. And now he did remember the way he had lost everything he had after coming back from Afghanistan. But his mind had just gained more painful memories, and he had found nothing really to help him discover who he was, though he had a pretty good idea of who he was before. A killer. That reality had hit him violently in the face. A murderer. It sure would explain why he was seeing these ghosts. Probably, people he had killed that took their revenge by haunting him. In fact they were the reasons why he hadn't seen his parents after leaving the hospital. How could he face them after all the atrocities he had seen and done? How could he simply be a man with what he knew? That's why he had tried to erase their faces with this, the gambling.

He stared at the street on his left. From his place, he could still see the faint glow coming from the red letters of the name casino. He had gambled the first time to find the same thrill he was accustomed in Afghanistan. It was weird in fact as he remembered. Because he was not interested by feeling the same as he did in Afghanistan. No, it was more his body that implored him to gamble and take a risk. That risk that would show him, he was still alive. That he hadn't died in this cell. That he was still here. But in fact, the ghosts hadn't vanished and even the game wasn't enough now to make them disappear.

He breathed deeply. No this call had not really helped him to know who he really was. It's like all the good moments of his life had been erased and the only things left were those painful memories of war and kills. His lungs gulped avidly for air. He wanted so much to be able to forget this dark side of him. But all his mind was showing him so far had been pain, suffering, and lost parents without faces. His question remained, who was he before he became that killer? Had he ever been a good man? Or he had just been that monster all his life? He needed answers, but all he got right now was a scattered mind in a weak and broken shell owning only the rags he wore.

Exhausted, he leant the back of his head on the cold metal of the trash can. His eyelids too heavy blinked a moment staring at the dark alley before they drooped softly.

Stepping out of the shadows, Brennan walked quickly toward him, and kneeled. She knew he couldn't see or hear her as there was too much light in the alley. But she needed to know how he was. And from the look she took, he looked like a mess, she thought. As her blue eyes slid slowly from his bruised face to the deep wound on his right temple, she noticed the thin trail of blood still pouring from it. The crimson line curved the long of his jaws before dripping to his shirt already stained by the blood oozing from a long gash slashing his torso.

Her eyes hitched as she felt the salty drops gathering in the corners. She wanted to hug him and bring him some warmth. Her hand raised to stroke softly his cheek. Unfortunately, her ghostly state didn't allow her that kind of sweet comfort. A dreadful rage filled her mind. Standing up, she looked angrily at the street. Those shiny lights were the reasons why she couldn't be with him. Turning her anger towards the lamps standing loosely in the street, she walked to the alley's entry. Less shadowy, she managed to find a dark spot where she went to stand. Peering at the ground, she discovered what she expected, old empty beer cans and other junk and solid garbage. Crouching, she grabbed a small bottle half full of a green stinky liquid. Weighting it in her hand, she thought it was heavy enough for what she intended to do. Peeping at the street, she sought the closest light. In few seconds, she found it about fifteen feet from her. She took a deep breath, before aiming at the lamp. With all her strength, she threw the bottle straight to the light. The sound of broken glass rewarded her as the light went off, plunging a part of the alley into the dark. Now she could almost go near him as the shadows had grown toward him. She rushed to the closest shadow.

"Booth," she said, holding her breath, "this is all a dream..."

His eyelids flickered. Finally, after few seconds, he managed to keep his eyelids half open. His vision was blurred and the shape he saw was dancing before him.

"Who's there?" He said stifling a moan when he tried to move. He quickly gave up under the shooting pain running through his body.

"It's me Booth, it's Bones. I know you don't remember me..." her voice trailed off, uncertain as she stood three feet from him, "...that's okay... I'm here to help you fix it."

"W..what?" his voice slurred.

"Booth, this..." she swallowed "this is all a dream...nothing is real!" she took a deep breath, "you're in a hospital,... you've been seriously..." her throat tightened as she recalled the crimson room when they discovered him. She inhaled slowly, "... you've been seriously injured... but you gonna be fine."

He listened half awaked. Even in his haze, he sensed that her voice sounded pretty upset when she explained where he was supposed to be. But it was weird to think this was a dream.

"You think..." he said panting, "... that I'm gonna believe that," he paused, taking a long breath, "I'm beat, not crazy!"

A faint smile drew the corner of her lips. At least he wasn't ready to give up yet, she thought admiring his will.

"No you're not crazy, though I'm telling the truth" she waited, her eyes stroking softly his face. He had taken so much lately, that becoming suspicious was understandable. She felt an overwhelming urge to step and hug him, but the shining ray of light between them prevented her to do so. She sighed, he had always been there when she needed a shoulder to cry, but she couldn't. Soon, she thought, soon he'd be okay and soon she would feel his warmth. With soft eyes, she crouched.

Hissing, he tried to stare at the crouching shape before him. But all he could make out were a fuzzy face. He could hear her long and deep breath as she stared at him.

His sight was blurred, his body ached like hell, and all he wanted was answers and yet when someone did give it to him, he pushed the person aside, thinking it was a lie. Damn idiot, he thought about himself. What was the matter with him?

"I..." he mumbled, before breathing harshly "... let say you're right, then, what should I do?"

That's it Booth, Brennan thought.

"I'm not sure,..." she said low, " I think first you have to remember and..."

He sighed, "that's the problem,..." he cut dryly "I can't!" his voice softened, as his eyes drooped close, "I'd tried, but it's like sand in my hands, it's just slipping away every time, I think I got close to it, I'm..." the words stuck in his throat with pain, "...I'm losing it, and..."

"It's okay, I'm here to help Booth," she said softly, "together we'll find out..."It was in time like this she used to seek his soothing stare. Unfortunately right now, his eyes were closed and he looked ready to slumber in another darkness. So, she spoke quickly, trying to give him something to hang on.

"Maybe if I tell you what to remember it will work"

He didn't answer. His muscles tensed under small shivers as his wet shirt was sticking onto his chest freezing him.

"Okay," he whispered.

She stared at him, thinking which thing he would probably never forget, "what do you remember about Parker?" she wandered.

He frowned, "who's Parker?"

She bit her lower lip and she felt a hard grip tightening her heart. If he didn't remember the person he cared the most, then, she thought, it wasn't going to be easy.

"He's your kid, he's five..." she stopped, feeling sad for him. "I'm sorry!" she added, as Booth became agitated.

His hands were looking for something to grab on and help him raise on his feet.

"Parker," he repeated, his sight trying to focus on something behind Brennan, "I..." he swallowed.

Fighting to keep his eyes open and raking his brain, Booth glared at her. His hollow look struck Brennan. He's lost, she thought, oh god Booth!

Despite his efforts to remember, no image came to his mind. The more he strove to remember, and the more he felt empty and cold inside, "... how does he look?" he asked giving up after his memory had failed him.

"He's just like you," said Brennan, showing a big smile.

He rubbed his eyes trying to hide the tears that threatened to shed, "I don't understand...I don't want him to be like me!" he shot.

What, she thought, taken aback by his answer.

"Why?" she asked, but she stopped abruptly realizing what thoughts had crossed his mind. "You're a good man Booth! Don't think otherwise!" she uttered.

His gaze still unfocused dropped to the damp ground, "I'm not..." muttered his lips.

Fear gripped her chest. How could he think that? she thought angrily. The thing that had ripped apart his memory had really messed up with his mind. Thinking, she remembered, his first memory. Torture and pain. Now, she was witnessing him reliving the part of his life when he probably hit the rock bottom. She swallowed the knot formed in her throat. The only memories he had were painful and quite depressing. She knew now, what was her purpose here? What a guide mean.

"You have all the reasons to be proud of yourselves. You saved a lot of lives, including me!" she stared at him, but his face kept avoiding her stare as he looked down.

He sighed sadly, "I don't know you," he dropped. Swallowing, his blurred gaze raised to her face, "sorry I don't mean to hurt you, but you may not be very objective... "

"That's right, you don't remember me," she stated, a bit hurt, "because you would have known that I'm more than objective..." her voice trailed off, "But that's okay!"

"It's not, I don't even recall my own parents,"... he spitted, his voice trailing off.

His shoulders dropped helplessly.

"Booth, you did a lot of things in your life... Some... were terrible that's true, but you did it out of faith,... faith that you were protecting people, and you did!" her voice softened, as her eyes slid to his face.

Facing the ground, his chin rested on his chest, avoiding her sight.

"Booth," she called again, "...We went through a lot together... you helped me with my family, you... you had always been there when I needed a friend," she sighed, "I know you don't have much to believe me and I don't have all the answers you seek..." she paused seeking to connect with his eyes, but he was still looking down, "but I do know one thing,... you can trust me... "

"I..." he stumbled on the words, "sorry," he finally mumbled faintly, looking up. But his vision was still blurry and he couldn't see the sadness in her eyes.

"Just focus on this Booth, you're a good man." she said, encouraging him. He couldn't give up. "You saved lives," she continued, "you helped people, you're a good father and a good friend. That's what you are!" she uttered, "and don't let anything make you think otherwise... focus only on this, you are a good man! Then, you'll see that I was right."

"... kay," he said weakly.

His head was becoming too heavy for him and slid slowly on his shoulder.

"I'm trying," he whispered, "...feel...tired..." his voice trailed off.

"Remember, you're a good man, Booth!" she said.

"... ood..." he mumbled as he slumbered.

Her gaze stayed on him. His breath was low and irregular.

"Booth? Stay awaked!" she called.

Then she heard it. Pom-- Pom...Pom-- Pom, getting louder.

The beat changed into a white noise overwhelming her ears. Slowly, a thick mist flooded the dark alley. As she felt the humid fog wrapped her and Booth as well, a bright light bathed the alley, blinding her. Then, the ground shook, before vanishing under her legs, and she felt her body falling again.

The light changed into a dim light as she found herself in a street. On the walkway she realized she knew very well this place. She was standing in front of their dinner's place...

* * *

ooooooo

* * *

So can you guess what's going to happen?... Will see who's right? Lol

Please R&R...


	23. where my heart stands

**Author's note :** Sorry for the delay, but I have been under for sometime... Lot of things going on... like a memoir to finish, and to argue in front of a jury, then I moved out to another city, lost my Internet connection for sometimes... pfff!!

But I got it back this week, so here we are... a chapter freshly baked and only for your eyes guys, so enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

**Warning :** Spoilers from season 2, so if you haven't seen it, maybe you'll want to read this after seing the second season.

* * *

ooooooo

* * *

A lot of cars were passing in the street, casting their lights to secret shadows lurking in dark alleys. It was probably not late in the evening thought Brennan. Looking around, she spotted a black SUV parked the long of the sidewalk. Seeking her car, her sight wandered in the street, but she didn't find it.

Maybe, she had come with him, she thought, they used to do that more often lately. A small smile appeared at the corner of her lips, and then he had to drive her back home, which kind of obliged him to come pick her up early in the morning. Yep, she thought, and he would shoot her his charming smile pointing at a steaming polystyrene cup of coffee nestled near her seat and waiting for her. She couldn't say why but she liked that attention. It always made her feel important though it was totally irrational. Her mind wandering, she glanced at her right, checking the street for cars. She spotted white head lights far away. Quickly, she crossed the road.

Strolling, she headed toward the dinner. Perhaps this time, she would see him in a good memory. She smiled as she wondered what memories could have qualified as nice when he was with her. But her smile quickly disappeared as she saw him in the dinner. Cam was sitting right in front of him as he grinned at her. It seemed they were having a good time, as both were smiling sheepishly to each other. So that nice memory was with Cam. She felt a small pinch in her heart, feeling a bit disappointed. Why was he with Cam? Inhaling deeply, she remembered that Cam had been his girlfriend for sometimes, though his private life didn't concern her anyway. Her rational mind back in control, she stared at them behind the wide glass of the dinner.

Booth shot an amused smile to Cam, as his fork played aimlessly with his food.

As she was in the street, under some light, Brennan already knew she wouldn't be heard or seen. So, she remained behind the glass, gazing at her gleeful partner. It looked like Cam was talking a lot, and he seemed enjoying his pie as he stared at her amused.

Finally, she changed her mind, and decided to enter the dinner. She couldn't be noticed anyway.

The small hissing sound of potatoes being fried welcomed her as she stepped inside their special place. A bit unsure, she walked toward Booth's table. There must be a reason why she was in this memory, she thought. Curious, she stopped behind Cam, only to check if the topic was relevant to help him to come back, otherwise she didn't want to step in Booth's private life. Though a small part of herself wanted to know more about him. She smiled staring at Booth as he was trying to avoid Cam's proposal. Somehow, she found cute the way he was smiling embarrassed by Cam. She was trying hard to convince him to go to New York in a trip with her.

Then, his cell rang.

"I don't know, Camilla," he said, smiling at Cam as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He looked at the id before glancing at Cam.

"Don't answer," she cut, trying to convince him to let his voice mail takes the call as she pointed at his cell phone.

He stared at her smiling.

"I don't know..." he pushed few buttons on the cell, "talking and singing," he smiled like a kid, "... talking and dancing, and more singing, if you want to stop what we're doing just say so..." he continued. His head hopped from side to side, as he brought the cell to his ear with a grin.

Brennan smiled at her partner's choice of body language. It was something that had always amazed her. How he could express his ideas through his gleeful eyes, wrapping up everything like a piece of cake with his charming smile. Sadness filled her soul. She had missed that smile so much, she thought. And for a second, an entire second she felt as if he was safe by her side and not lost in a dark place struggling to keep his head over the gloomy wave of oblivion that could douse him at any time.

As she sipped the full amount of his grin to fill her soul, she saw his charming smile dropped dead. His attention seemed to turn on the phone, ignoring the rest of Cam's comment. A line of worry quickly drew its way on his forehead. Brennan wondered who it could be, as she witnessed his face rapidly drained of all its color. Cam seemed to notice his change of mood too, and held her last word into the air.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Booth stared at her, fear and confusion were the only answer his eyes cast. Then, his hand slid slowly to the table, the phone still nestled in his palm. Without a word, he pressed on the button to repeat the message and raised his phone between them. A deep computerized voice spoke slowly, stabbing Brennan's heart.

"Temperance Brennan and Jack Hodgins have been buried alive..."

The remaining words never made it to her ears as the painful memory struck her in the face. As her stomach heaved, she recalled that dreadful smell of dirt and the thought that crossed her mind at the time. A strong fear nourished by the feeling of her lungs never breathing air again clawed to her skin. The grave digger, thought Brennan, she was in her friend's memory when that bastard had buried her and Hodgins alive.

So, that's how it happened, she thought. The grave digger had called directly Booth. Of course she already knew that fact as Booth had told her how he got the call and how he and the squint had worked to find them. But when you tell a story there are always things that you can't, or that you don't want to describe to your friends, and how he had reacted to the call was a question that had nestled in the back of her mind for a long time now. Though Brennan felt that she was going to find out soon.

She stared at her partner. His eyes looked lost as if he didn't believe what was happening. His mouth half open, it seemed his breath was stuck in his lungs.

Damn light, she cursed, Booth! If only they could stand in a darker place, so she would have been able to stop that painful memory to come back. Unfortunately, they weren't. She bit her lips wondering how to change that and what could she do to help. But before she had the time to react, the light around them brightened. The white shining mist flooded the dinner. She took a deep breath knowing what was going to happen next. And as the street had appeared before her eyes, she sadly witnessed as his face slowly faded behind white thick cotton layers.

With a sigh, she felt her body falling lightly, again. The fall increased in speed. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Then, suddenly she hit something pulpy. She wasn't standing up anymore, and she realized she was sitting on some kind of soft and mushy couch.

As the shining light dimmed, Brennan noticed the white mist was torn apart by dark claws. What was that? Darkness all around her, and her heart beating like drums, she called for Booth. He had to be there, she thought, he had to be. The claws lashed the last piece of white veil that kept her apart from the obscurity. Holding her breath, she saw a long slithery arm and sharp claws emerged from the mist.

"Booth," she yelled, "let me find you!" her voice cut into the darkness.

Swallowing hard, she witnessed as another withered hand torn the thin veil with sharp claws, followed by a terrifying growl. Then, a bright yellow ray of light made its way through the darkness bathing Brennan in a golden light.

The vision of horror vanished as soon as the light touched the rotting skin. She let her breath out, realizing she didn't want to know what that thing was. Her breathing went slowly back to normal as she noticed she was sitting in the backseat of a car. A child car seat was carefully tightened to the right side. She was in Booth's car, she added mentally, as she made out the form with broad shoulders driving behind the wheel. Through the window, long trails of lights were drawing horizontal lines outside the car. We're driving fast, she thought, but to where?

His voice suddenly echoed in the car. He sounded angry. She frowned. She had never really seen Booth angry. His cell pressed on his ear with one hand, he was yelling at someone and his behavior seemed a bit erratic.

"I don't care if it takes you all night... my partner and one of her friend are buried alive..." he clenched his jaw, "do you understand what that means? ... yes, buried alive! So get on to trace that damn call and work on that tape..."

He hung up and tossed his cell on the passenger seat, still angry. His eyes longed on the seat where Brennan used to sit and argue with him. His stare darkened.

"Hang on, Temperance," he muttered, "I'll find you..."

His gaze went back to the road. He would find her, he thought, no matter what. His knuckles turned white as he squeezed hardly the wheel.

From her seat, Brennan noticed the tension in his shoulder. A long vein on his neck was pulsing underneath his skin as he contracted his shoulders. She bit her lips. After he found her, she remembered their long talk at the church. At the time, she had thought his cold determination had saved them. But she had no idea that it affected him that much.

His stare was lost on the road, and suddenly, a bright flashlight bathed the car. Horns yelled at Booth pulling him out of his reverie. Quickly, he broke to the right, and avoided the car in front of him. The tires screeched on the gravel, as the car had slipped from the road and was now bouncing on the irregular trail. Pulling over, the car stopped abruptly throwing him toward the wheel. A small dust cloud wrapped the black SUV.

"Damn it!" yelled Booth, punching the wheel with his palm several times.

Then he stopped and his hands tightened on the wheel. Leaning forward, his forehead rested on the back of his hands, closing his eyes. His low breathing was the only sound in the car.

"Please, God," he prayed, "I've never asked for anything..." he swallowed the knot in his throat, "help me find her and Hodgins alive...I don't care about anything else..."

His words broke her heart. She swallowed, realizing the depth of her feelings for this man. He cared about her and would have done anything for her. She knew that now. All these weeks keeping things secretly, avoiding her just to be sure she wouldn't be injured. But the thing he didn't know, she thought, was that she was committed to go all the way for him too. Trembling, her hand reached for his neck. Slowly, her shaking fingers stroked his damp hair. His soft skin was warm and sweating. She could feel the muscles tensed under her touch. As she caressed the back of his head, the tension faded, and he began to relax.

"Who are you?" his voice echoed in the car. He hadn't moved, his head still resting on his hands. His tone was neutral, but Brennan could feel the tension returning.

"It's me Booth, it's Bones!" her voice trembled, she was finally able to talk to him and touch him. It had been so long. She closed her eyes as a small relief ran through her body. She would be able to bring him back, she thought.

His heart jumped in his chest at the name. His head jerked backward. Staring at the back seat mirror, his deep brown eyes sought eagerly between the darkness behind him. Then, between the thick layers of obscurity, his stare stopped on something.

He sighed at the mist that had invaded the backseat. Of course he was dreaming told his mind. Bones couldn't be behind him. He felt the same deep cold void digging its way through his bones again and a groan escaped his lips.

"Stop dreaming Seeley," he uttered, "find her!"

He turned the engine on, and focused his tired eyes on the dark trail before him. The moonlight cast shadows inside the car.

"Booth am right here," she voiced, clenching her fists. Jumping from the backseat, her upper body went out and over the manual brake. Her face stared at him, anxious.

"Come on, I'm here Booth..." her voice trailed off. She realized she had no effects on him, "I know it's not completely dark... but you have to fight this light Booth, it keeps us apart!"

A gnarling growl echoed in the night, sending a chill running through her spine.

"Booth," she called, with a pleading voice as she turned toward the growling sound.

Not again, she thought, as a stench filled the air and nagged her nostrils. Between the cop siren Booth had set on, and his tires screeching as he zigzagged between cars, she could hear a loud breathing getting closer, as someone running,... No,... chasing, she corrected.

Her veins pumped more blood to flood her brain as she felt a boiled anger raising from the depth of her gut. It was their enemy... The thing that had messed up with Booth's life... the thing that constantly drew her from his true memory. The thing that was responsible to place him in this catatonic state.

"Who are you?" she screamed. "What gave you the right to do that to him?"

The darkness stared at her, passively.

Then she felt it, that damn white and thick fog wrapping its wings around her.

"Nooo," she almost implored, this is unfair.

The shadow around her faded, consumed by the white shining light. The vision of the car faded and exhausted, Brennan felt her body coming to a fall again.

White pulpy clouds wrapped her. It's odd, she thought, how every time she fell in these cotton layers and felt protected and confident, although it was those things that kept her apart from her partner.

ooooooo

After a long moment, the clouds stretched enough to reveal a dim room. Her body landed safely on a brownish carpeted room. Her eyes widened grateful to be back in a place she knew too well. A smile curved her lips at the pictures hanged to the walls among awards for outstanding sharp shot and a medal for bravery that he had never told her about. A feeling of joy invaded her, she was back in a known country. She explored the room with admiring eyes as she had never had the time to really see what were those medals. A small orange light shone in the room from his desk lamp.

She heard footsteps in the corridor. Deciding it was best to stay out of the way, mostly because it was never pleasant to have someone going through your ghostly body, she stepped back into the shadow and waited.

An exhausted Booth entered the office. He tossed his jacket on a chair and rolled up his sleeves when a man with a Hispanic tan stepped inside his office. Brennan frowned. She recognized him. He was the guy from the K&R that helped them on the grave digger's case.

"There's no negotiating with the gravedigger," the man said without introducing himself.

Booth rubbed his face, already tired from the man's comment, and looked up at the ceiling before turning to face his visitor.

Brennan focused on her partner, something was wrong, she thought. She knew he didn't like the guy when they met the first time, but this time it seemed very obvious. Booth replied to the man, putting his hands together. But the man from K&R didn't seem to notice Booth's aggressive stance toward him as he answered in the same pushing tone.

"Exactly, so I know him," said the man, "and he doesn't negotiate"

It was too much for Booth, as he started to joke about the man's comment and something about a chat room. The argumentation continued until the man become angry at Booth's comment about becoming rich due to the gravedigger. He was right of course, he did become rich with his books. But as she had come to know Booth, she knew he was pissed and that's why he had gone straight to the weak point, as he told her once. Though, she knew that when he was like that, one more word, and he could become very unfriendly.

"You know what?" stated the man from K&R angry, "You just need to deal with the facts... that if you can't put the ransom together in the time he gave you, your partner is dead!"

At the moment he uttered the words, the man understood he had made a big mistake. Booth shot him an angry look and grabbed him by the throat. He pulled the man down on a small round table. As he squeezed his throat his daunting stare invited the man not to dare add anything else.

"Here's the deal, all right..." Booth started calmly as he squeezed the man's throat, his jaws was clenched as he was holding back his anger, "... you have a relationship with this guy... what they call symbiotic... you benefit from each other" he snarled.

From the shadow, Brennan watched as Booth was becoming very aggressive. His deep brown eyes were scanning the man, looking for any excuses that would authorize him to smash his face against the hard wood.

"So know this,..." he glared at the man angrily, "that dead line comes and my partner is still underground I will end you!" threatened Booth, his lips curled back on a predatory stare.

Then, slowly, he eased his grip and let the man stand. He pushed him hard in the direction of the exit. And let him go.

"Three hours to live," he added.

Rubbing his throat, the man glared at Booth as he turned around, he was gasping hard, staring angrily at Booth. The man looked down at his shoes his mouth closed. Booth watched as the man from K&R turned and left not wanting to argue anymore.

As Booth stayed alone in his office, he looked at the ceiling, "She's not dead yet!" he said aloud, his eyes were shooting dreadful sparkles.

His body relaxed as the silence filled the room. From the shadow where she was watching him, Brennan saw him took few steps back before leaning heavily on his desk. His shoulders dropped. He let go a long sigh as his hands covered his face almost praying.

Even from the distance, she could see he was exhausted. She hadn't seen him like that in a long time, but she had noticed it happened each time he had been too involved in a case. She bit her lower lip. How could he not react like that, she thought? Of course, he was involved. Anything that affected her, affected him, that's what he had told her once. That's what being partners means. But in fact, what really troubled her was, that she was seeing a secret part of him, something maybe he wouldn't have shared with her if he had known she was there. Somehow, it saddened her that he was always hiding these things from her, keeping her away from his pain, keeping her safe from any arm. A lonely tear escaped the corner of her eye and slid to her lips. If only he knew, she thought. If only she had told him. Raising her woeful eyes on him, she noticed he hadn't moved. His hands were still covering his face.

The soft orange light was still bathing his office like a mist, preventing her to make any contact with him.

She knew he couldn't see her or even hear her. She was getting used to her inability to communicate with him as long as she was in the light, like now. She sighed and stepped to stand near him.

"Don't worry," she whispered, "you are going to find me."

He opened his hands and revealed his tired eyes. A brown deep stare crossed her face as he turned where she was standing. While few seconds her breath stopped, paralyzed. Was it possible that he had finally heard her, she wondered staring at his intense and sad gaze. As to answer to her unspoken question, he walked toward her. She swallowed feeling his warmth inches from her. Then, as she didn't exist, he passed through her body and made his way to his armchair. A long chill ran along her spine. Her eyelids dropped heavily, keeping the image of his face few seconds before he went through her immaterial body. The armchair squealed under his weight as he crashed tiredly in it. A loud sigh seeped from his lips.

And as she heard her partner releasing his fears through a short breath, she did what she had never done before, she prayed... She prayed that he would be able to hear her... She prayed that he could see her... She prayed that the room could suddenly turn dark... And she prayed with all her heart to awake his 'gut' or his sixth sense or whatever he uses to feel her presence.

A faint plea escaped her lips between the turmoil of her thoughts. Please Booth, she thought, turn off the light.

"If there's a god, can't he just help me?" She voiced angrily at the ceiling.

Her fist clenched tightly against her side. She could feel her nails deepening into her skin, but she didn't care. She had to tell him he was dreaming. She had to tell him to wake up. She sighed. Obviously, all her attempts had failed. She turned around, seeking the comfort of his soothing deep brown stare.

But she found only the back of his neck as he was facing his computer. Slowly, his fingers rubbed his eyes wet. He sighed and turned to his desk, his hand reaching for a paper. His move froze in the air. The light in the room blinked on his arm stretched. Glancing at his desk lamp he realized the light bulb was the origin of the twilight sparkles. Before he could do anything, the light bulb flashed several times before it finally yielded, plunging the room into darkness.

" What the hell?" Booth muffled.

His hand reach for the lamp, hoping to be able to fix it quickly. But his fingers met an unexpected warm skin.

"Who's there?" he asked.

But only the silence answered him.

"I don't have time for games!" he threw angrily.

Tightening his grip around the wrist, he stood up.

Even in the dark his tall stature was impressive, thought Brennan. A smile of hope curved her lips.

"It's me, Booth!" she said eager to hug him, but her rational mind had convinced her to wait until she was sure he would be fine.

"Me, who?" he replied harshly.

"It's me, Brennan..." her voice trailed off, wondering why he had just asked that. Had he not recognized her voice?

Her gut twisted inside afraid of another bad news.

"If this is a joke, you sure should get the hell out of here before I find the switch for the light," he replied harshly.

"No Booth, it's me! You don't recognize my voice?" her tone was hoarse as she felt her hopes fading slowly.

"I..." he started, unsure.

She could hear his voice hesitate. He rolled his eyes as he tried to remember. But no voice came to his mind. A rush of panic flooded his thoughts. How could he not remember her voice, the voice of his partner, he asked to himself? I should remember her voice... Bones' voice. Breathing deeply, he tried to clear his mind. His stare scanned the darkness to find her.

"Bones can't be here!" he stated with smooth assurance to Brennan. "I wish she were..." his voice trailed off, before raising again, but softer this time, "The grave digger took her," he sighed, "and I'm losing time talking to you..." His fist collided with his desk angrily.

He freed her wrist, "Go!" he said, harshly, "This isn't a game!"

"Booth, I'm not a joke, nor a dream, though we are in one of your dream," she added thinking, "I'm real,... Well as much as I can be in your memory."

"My memory... what the hell are you talking about?" he waved a hand, pushing the argument aside. "That doesn't matter anyway," he said, shaking his head, "go, I can't afford to lose my time with a psycho," he stepped back, stating the discussion was over.

No, she thought, she wasn't going to back off like that, she wasn't going to lose him! "I know what you're thinking, and I can help!"

He smirked, "and now your telepath, wow, big leap, get the hell out of my office before I call security."

As the room remained silent, she heard him rumbling over his desk. Probing his hands found the phone.

"Security," she heard him said on the phone.

"You don't remember my voice, but that's okay Booth..." she cut.

He froze, his words stuck in his throat, how does she know, he thought.

"I know you don't remember my face either..." she sighed giving up a part of herself. It was hard for her to admit he had forgotten all about her, though he wasn't responsible for it, "... and that's okay too. I know how you can remember..." her voice trailed off to give him the time to cope with her words.

When she heard the phone hanged up, she knew she finally had a break.

He let go a deep breath.

"I'm not saying I believe you..." he paused, his deep gaze searching the night to find a familiar face, except he had no memory to compare to, he thought cursing. "How do you know?"

Now was the time to play her role, she thought.

"Because I'm following your steps in all your dreams..." she sighed, wondering how to explain with facts something that was totally irrational.

"I've witnessed you trying to remember," she paused, looking into the direction of his voice, "I'm sorry I came too late," she said with a shaking voice, "I tried, but...I..." she swallowed the sobs forming in her throat, "if you are here, having this trouble,... It's because of me." she threw.

Her tone full of sorrow and pain, touched him. She wasn't faking, he thought. He couldn't see her, but since he had heard her voice, his gut hadn't stopped to twitch madly inside. Maybe, she was really here to help him, he wondered.

" kay," he dropped, "you tell me."

A rush of relief quickly followed by panic ran inside her veins. It was like being put in control of a crashing plane.

"Well, I think you should come closer first, Booth," she said trying to find the best way to help him.

Without arguing he took a step toward her voice.

"How much closer?" he wondered, a cocky smile spreading on his lips.

She bit her lower lip, she would have sworn he had smiled as he had asked that.

"Well, you need to be close enough to touch my face."

A long silence followed her words. Unsure, his right hand reached into the darkness, probing awkwardly the air.

"I'm here" she whispered as she cuddled his hand in hers. "It's okay," she added, "the only way to see in the dark is by touch, it will help your parietal lobe to remember."

"Wouldn't it be easier by turning the light on?" he wondered.

"Easier..." she sighed, "not really...I can't explain why, but it appears you can't see me in the light..."

"So we're stuck with the touching you all over," he grinned, teasing her.

"Not all over Booth, the face should be enough," she replied, taking an outraged tone. But what Booth didn't see in the obscurity was the smile appearing on her face. That teasing was so much like him, she thought, and somehow she missed that too.

Booth swallowed, as his hand poked into the dark. He felt like an intruder and wondered if they were more than partners as soon as his gut started to twist madly at the contact of her soft skin.

Gulping his fingers slid the long of her cheek to her jaw. Following the thin line of the bone, his hand reached her chin. More confident now, he cuddled her chin with both hands and started to slid his fingers up to her ears, caressing her face. He felt her shivering under his touch. He smiled, maybe more than partners, he added mentally for himself. Then, slowly he stroked her face, his warm fingers discovering the curve of her forehead. His thumbs went slowly down to meet her eyes. Eyes, he thought, the reflection of the soul. Too bad he couldn't see them right now.

His hands were totally wrapping her face now and she could feel him shaking too as a flow of emotions ran inside his veins. Lots of images rushed in his mind. He saw people surrounding him and screaming. He gulped some air, remembering a fight against a giant. His face was turned to the ground and everyone was yelling, beating their hands in the air. It was a whole mess, but somehow he distinguished a voice. It was weak at first. But slowly the voice got louder. His shoulder was hurting like hell as his left arm was pulled backwards in a weird angle. And through the pain and the noisy scream of his shoulder mixed with the fever coursing the crowd, he heard it. The voice seeped faintly from the jerking crowd gathered in a circle. It shouted something for him. He couldn't see the face of the person as it was lost among the feverish gamblers, and yet the voice became crystal clear. He had to strike somewhere, said the voice. His gaze searched among the crowd to find what but the image changed, and he found himself facing a huge dark tree.

Its branches hanged loosely under the freezing wind. It looked like a living scarecrow as its dark shape cut on the dawning sky. Booth blinked, before looking at his wet feet. He was standing in a swamp. He frowned hearing the same voice calling his name. But when he turned in the direction of the voice, what he saw froze him. His feet tripped into the muddy water as he stepped back awkwardly. He fell backwards splashing his body. But even as he had lost his stance, he had kept his eyes glued to the person standing in front of him. It's not real, his mind repeated, it's not real!

The woman standing in front of him was...He couldn't really say... He breathed deeply. The woman in front of him had no face. It was as someone had erased her features leaving her face smooth and rubbed of any characteristic. No nose, eyes or lips, just skin. The only thing he could only make out was her auburn hair flooding lightly over her shoulders. His breath became short. From his right, a crow squealed and flew over them. His gaze followed the scavenger as it dived to the dark tree. Then everything turned black.

He was back in his office and had wrapped his head in his hands. A sharp pain burst inside his skull making hard to stand. His legs too weak he didn't dare to move, afraid to fall before her, so he stayed like that for a moment trying to breath slowly to perhaps make the pain go away. Few seconds later a hand stroke his shoulder softly. She was whispering a name. It filtered between the dark cloud of his mind. It was his name, he realized. Then, the tremors in his limb lowered. She caressed his back.

"It's okay Booth, it means you're remembering."

Her soft caress soothed softly his broken body from the pain that twitched and spiked through his muscles.

"Hold on Booth," she added trying to reassure him, "keep fighting, and you'll be able to escape from this nightmare..." she said.

Following her words, he breathed slowly, and tried to calm the beating that pounded in his chest.

"I can't see you," he muttered with sadness in the voice, "I can't... you're blurry,... as if a mist covers your face every time I try," his shoulders fell hopelessly. "I'm sorry, I don't remember... it's too hard..." his voice trailed off as the pain in his brain had become insufferable. He dropped to his knees.

Brennan closed her eyes holding back the tears that threatened to flow from her eyes. She knew it was irrational, and yet somehow she could feel his pain and distress filling irrationally her heart. His pain burned inside her, deepening into her soul. She wanted to scream and fight for him. She would have given him his whole memory if she could, but it was impossible. The rational part inside her brain was yelling at her that it was impossible. It was his fight, she could only stand aside and cheer him up. She couldn't bear his pain, but she wanted it so much, to help him, share his pain and maybe allow him a brief moment of quietness to remember who he was.

She crouched beside him. Her hand reached for him in the darkness. She met his trembling neck. Thin lines of sweat slid from his damp hair to his neck. He shuddered under her touch.

"You're strong Booth!" she whispered, "I know you can do it."

"Too ... hard..." his trembling voice muffled.

He had set one hand on the floor to support him, while the other was pressing hard on his temple, trying to suppress the stabbing headache that increased under his skull with each second.

Slowly, she pressed her head against his neck.

"Shh," she said softly to his ear, "I'm here with you Booth."

She thought he was going to be okay when his body started to relax. But suddenly, she felt his muscles tensed. A tearing groan escaped his lips under the pain that coursed through his body.

It's oka..." she stopped suddenly.

Her nose pinched as a fetid stench invaded the room. The walls faded melting on their bases like ice cream under a burning sun, revealing only more darkness around them.

"Mine" growled a guttural and deafening voice.

"No!" she yelled to the thing she knew damn well now.

"You won't have him!" she wrapped her arms around Booth, kneeling on the floor.

His eyes were closed, and he was holding his head, whispering her name. A thin line of sweat beaded his forehead under the effort to remember. His breath was laborious and she felt him shivering against her.

He's in pain because of that thing, she realized.

"Hang on, Booth" she said to his ear, "hang on!"

"I know you," he muttered faintly to her.

His eyes were half open.

She smiled, "yes, you do."

A loud break made her wheeled her head to her left.

Something huge was coming, she thought as she felt the air sucked by something.

Then, suddenly the entire room disappeared. The growls increased, and she found herself in the dark. A deathly silence stamped on her chest. Only their breathings broke the night around them.

Then, the mist poured from the floor. Soon the white gas submerged them, drowning them in a creamy and heavy fog. She held onto his shivering body, not wanting to let him go again. No, this time, she thought, I'll stick to him.

But as she tightened her grip around him, his shaking form started to slide from her arms. The light, she realized, as her fingers became ghostly again. Even in the mist she could lose him. Scared, she witnessed helplessly as the white foggy substance filled the small space between them. She could still see him. He wasn't moving anymore, but she couldn't interact with him now.

A long howling sounded close to her right. She could already feel the warm and stinky breath blowing in her neck.

"This, won't protect you for long?" snarled the angry voice, "I'll find him!" then, the voice added giggling, "... or you'll find him for me."

She heard its growls passed on her left side then slowly fading away. The thing had missed them. She let go the breath she had automatically held when it came close to her. Her eyes scanned the white clouds to find her partner. But the place seemed desert. Well, as much as she could see in this thick damn fog.

"Booth," she tried to call, but her voice stayed stuck in her throat.

Suddenly, she had no breath, as if air had deserted her lungs. She crashed on the ground, holding desperately her throat. She knew it was vain to try to get her breath back this way, but as the lack of oxygen blurred her mind, it was hard to keep her rational mind in command. Around her, the white fog dimmed to blackness. She tried to stand, but something weighted heavily on her shoulders. She felt panic rising inside her. Somehow she had estimated thirty seconds had passed since she couldn't breath. Loud warnings rang in her brain. After a minute she would start to need oxygen, and after two at most she would lose consciousness and with it her chances to find a way to save herself. Thoughts swirled in her head. Fear to die, fear to never see Booth again. She was going to die, and he would never regain consciousness.

No, her thoughts screamed. She punched the darkness. To her surprise, her knuckles met a rough gravel right in front of her.

"What?", she thought, before realizing she was buried. She was back in her nightmare, but this time it felt real, and she couldn't breath. The grave digger had won. As her fingers deepened into the soil, trying to find an escape, she let her sweating forehead rest against the dirt hopelessly. Only one word floated over her frightened thoughts : Booth.

He was running. Running so fast and so hard that he thought his lungs were going to burst in flames at the next breath. He didn't know why, and how but his gut had pushed him to race toward a small spot of soil. The wind hissed in his ears like a threatening voice advising him to turn around. But he couldn't and now he was digging that same spot like a madman. His hands dug and pushed the soil aside, then dug again, and again. Blood poured from his fingers as they met small rocks that cut deeply in his flesh. But he couldn't stop. Sweat beaded his feverish forehead. A loud beating thumped in his ears sending jolts of pain behind his eyes. He heaved roughly trying to catch his breath as he plunged his hand into the gravel. His blood mixed with the dirt as he dug deeper. His fingers ached but he continued to dig. The pain was nothing compared to the fear of losing her. So he dug it was the only thing he could do right now. His fingers met more rocks and sand.

Come on, I know you're here! he hissed painfully.

Then, his fingers met a soft skin. Praying mentally that she was still alive, he closed his hand around a wrist and pulled with all his strength. The soil moved, discovering a thin white wrist. It had to be her. His other hand sought in the dirt and grabbed further under the elbow. He pulled harder and this time, he managed to free one of her shoulders. At the next pull, he saw her head rolling limply on her shoulder.

It's not too late, a voice screamed inside him. He tugged her to him as panic rose inside him. Her face was blurry and he couldn't see the line of her features. But he was sure of one thing, she had stopped to breath. He opened her mouth gently, or more exactly where he thought her mouth was.

His lips met hers. And in an attempt to insufflate life, he breathed slowly. His sight watched closely her chest raise and fall. He checked for a pulse under her chin. But couldn't find any.

Fear overwhelmed him, he pushed more air into her lungs.

Please, breath, he prayed. His scared eyes scanned intensely her chest, waiting eagerly for any twitch or move from Brennan. Then, he saw it, a small twitch of finger first.

Her body shook under her cough as she mumbled Booth's name. A large smile spread over Booth's lips, shining his face. She's alive, repeated his mind, she's alive.

"Bones," her name seeped from his lips like a long desired breath of air.

Her crystal blue eyes slid on his tired face. She felt as if she was waking up slowly from a long nightmare. She coughed, rasping out her dry throat. Her right hand in front of her mouth, she swallowed the taste of the dirt still in her mouth, coughing once more.

Her shoulders fell. She had never felt so weak and helpless, not even when she escaped the first time, she thought. Was it because everything wasn't real? Strong arms wrapped her exhausted body. She buried her face in the soft shoulder. Slowly, she breathed to steady her heartbeats. She felt safe as the arms squeezed a little more to comfort her.

Booth nestled his head against her neck.

"I found you," his muffled voice whispered against her ear.

She raised her eyes on him, full of concerns. Once again, he had saved her from that dreadful tomb. But what about him? She wondered. Did he really remember her?

His muscles relaxed as his wet forehead rested on her shoulder. He knew it was her, even if her face seemed blurry and foggy, he knew she was his Bones. He had found her. He didn't need to check her face to know that.

"Booth?" she said, noticing that he wasn't moving.

Then, she realized she was in full sunlight. He shouldn't be able to see her or even touch her. How was it even possible? Could he see her?

A loud thumping burst in the sky, Pom-- Pom, Pom-- Pom.

"Booth?"

Her call got his attention as he twitched slowly against her.

"You can see me!" she stated, joy in her voice.

A wide smile spread across her face.

"I can..., yes," he muttered.

His throat tightened. His head nestled in her neck, he wondered how could he tell her that he could see her but not her face. He let out a small sigh.

Her brows curved as she heard his breathing.

"Booth, you're okay?" she asked anxiously.

"I..." he took a deep breath and raised his sight on her.

A pair of shining blue eyes darted at him behind a light fog that blurred her face. He squinted at her, not believing what was happening. Before him, the cloud that blurred her face vanished just in time to let him catch her smile.

"Your face!" he said, smiling widely as well.

Gently his fingers put back a strand of auburn hair that had slid to her cheek behind her ear.

"I looked for you everywhere," he whispered into her ears, pressing her against him. "I thought... it was a nightmare..." his voice trailed off, "I couldn't find you...I'm sorry... I... was late..."

She closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder. His heart was beating fast.

"You found me," she answered with a little voice, "and you're here now."

Then, she swallowed at the thought of what she was going to say.

He felt her body tensed in his arms.

"Bones? Something's wrong?"

She felt a pinch at her heart at the way he called her. She had missed that.

"You're right... it was a nightmare, Booth!" she sighed, "but you're still inside."

He froze.

"What?" he asked struck by her words.

"I'm sorry Booth, but you have to get out of here!" she paused, watching as his face took a curious look, "come back with me, Booth."

Tired eyes met hers, he sighed heavily "... are you saying, all of this isn't real? Bones?...This.. isn't real?" he said his hand showing the place, "this... you... are not real?"

The words burned him the moment he pronounced them. How can she not be real? He thought, was he crazy?

"Well, not as real as real means," she started in an explanation, "I'm really here... I don't know how, but what matters is you.. Escaping this nightmare..." she finished.

"So this was just a bad dream?" he asked incredulous.

"Lots of bad dreams actually," she smiled openly to him, "But now that you remember you gonna be fine!"

She stroked his arm softly, waiting for him to cope with the news. It had to be hard, she thought, reliving the worst moment of his life weren't memories easy to manage with, especially when you did in a short time.

His dark brown stare deepened inside her, looking for some truth drown in the blue ocean of her eyes.

He sighed deeply, "I always trusted you Bones."

"I know Booth, it's okay..." she said thinking he couldn't believe without facts anyway, she knew she won't.

"What should I do?" he cut.

She smiled. He had faith in her, she realized proudly.

"Well, you remember who you are?"

A curved line appeared between his eyebrows, "of course I know who I am, why wouldn't I?" he grinned.

She couldn't suppress another smile at the scene of his mischievous smile spreading over his face. Then her thoughts focused on his questions. She had no clues how to get out of this 'dream'.

"I think, if you remember enough of who you are, you should be able to wake up," she said.

"Just like that," he added thinking. Well, do I know enough, he wondered.

"Just like that," she confirmed, nodding slowly.

"I have to disagree," growled a deep voice.

"What," she started, giving a concern look at Booth.

He pressed her hands in his trying to reassure her, "it's going to be okay Bones."

Her blue eyes connected with his, not sure why it should be okay.

Then, the azure sky over them cracked open in a deafening thunder. A long graze appeared, tearing the sky and the lazy clouds on its way down, revealing an obscure breach.

The small hills of sand around them began to tremble in pain. As the tremors increased the sand slid down the hill, falling straight toward Brennan and Booth. In the middle of a gigantic mess, Brennan realized they were going to be buried again, and this time no one would be there for them. She wrapped her arms around Booth as the flow of sand was about to drown them.

Her cheek pressed against his chest, she listened to his heart pounding quietly. She felt his arms keeping her close to him, protecting her. She shut her eyes as the rumbling grew closer.

"I'm sorry," she dropped, "I came to help you and..."

"Shh,... it's okay Bones.

His hand caressed her hair softly.

You helped me," he whispered in her ear.

She was about to answer when she realized how clearly she could hear his heart beating in his chest. Pom-- Pom, Pom-- Pom.

Leaving the warm shelter of his arms, she sought his eyes. His deep reassuring brown stare met her scared gaze.

"It's okay," he repeated, smiling shyly.

He glanced on her side. Following his sight, she discovered why the place had become so quiet. Where were small hills of sand collapsing and sliding toward them a minute ago, she saw now huge walls of sand.

But what was really unexpected was that these walls were not falling on them. No, they were just standing as if an invisible hand hold them that way. Well, not really invisible as she noticed the white mist gathered at the bottom of the walls.

A deafening silence filled the place. Brennan gazed at him, astounded.

He smiled at her, "as a dear friend told me once, ... dreams can be controlled."

She returned him his smile.

"That doesn't mean you're free," growled the voice from behind him.

The voice startled her. So it's not over, she thought tiredly.

Warm hands wrapped softly her cold fingers. She raised her head to meet the deep reassuring gaze of her partner though he was breathing heavily as if he had run a marathon. Sweat ran down his temple and mixed with the yellow sand stuck on his face. But behind the veil of exhaustion, Brennan distinguished the sparkle of a new strength, hope.

* * *

ooooooo

* * *

Well, next chapter should be the last, and it should be up soon, says few days.

Feel free to review and give me your thoughts about this chapter. And thanks to everyone for reading...


	24. to get home to you

**Author's note :** Well, this is the last chapter. It took me sometimes as I didn't want to give you another cliffhanger. So it's the longest chapter of all, Enjoy!!

**Disclaimer:** as always, I don't own Bones or any of its characters...

* * *

ooooooo

* * *

She turned around seeking the terrible voice that was after them. But she only saw the walls of sand standing and waiting to crush them. A shudder ran down her spine.

"Bones," Booth said, his voice filled with tension.

Her blue ocean eyes turned to him. His face was glistening from the sweat dripping from his forehead.

He tried to smile but he only managed to curve his lips slightly. He was panting hard now and every move was taking a lot of his strength. His shoulders seemed heavier as if he was supporting the world. With a great effort, he managed to take a deep breath.

It was time for her to leave, he thought as he plunged his stare in the blue ocean of her eyes.

"Booth? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"yeah, I'm okay...Listen, you have to get out of here?" he said with a short breath.

"What! No! I'm not leaving you!" she retorted, "how can you..."

"No Bones," cut Booth, his eyes darkening. He cuddled her hands in his. "Don't argue just..."

But he never finished his sentence as Brennan disappeared suddenly, and he stared at the sand where she had sat few seconds before.

He frowned, "Bones!"

"She left you," whispered the growling voice from behind him, "and now you're alone..."

ooooooo

"Booth!" she called anxiously.

She took a look around. Where am I, she wondered? From the place she was standing, which looked like a small hole in a damp rock, she distinguished stone walls everywhere. It seemed she was in some kind of dark and humid cave. The place was dim though, which didn't surprise her. Every time she got separated from Booth it was to end up in a dark or shadowy place, so why not this time?

At least, this time she could breathe. Well, I'm not buried, that's something, she thought cheering herself up.

She took a deep breath but stopped as soon as an awful smell invaded her lungs. It smelled like death. She was used to the smell of rotting bodies but this was different. Her stomach heaved after a second necessary breath. Wrinkling her nose she felt the heavy humidity in the air sticking to her skin. I have to get out, or I'm really gonna be sick.

Her heart pounded fast in her chest. Calm down, Bren, she thought. Slowly, she breathed out to steady her heart rate, and squinted at the light glowing farther in the cave. As her eyes were getting used to the darkness, she noticed the walls around her were all wet. Water was pouring from the rock, giving to the place a faint glistening light . In fact, the whole place looked more and more like a tunnel, she realized.

Slowly, her hand leaned on the damp wall to give her some support. She was exhausted, and not just from her lack of oxygen from before. She found it difficult to focus and keep a rational mind. Strange thoughts danced in her mind. Before she could understand what was happening the image of a nightmarish creature came from the shadows.

She blinked trying to erase this image from her mind, but the creature remained there.

If she couldn't suppress it from her vision, maybe she should try to erase it from her mind, she thought. She closed her eyes, and focused her thoughts on her partner. He was somewhere in this darkness and now that he remembered her, she was sure he would come to help her. Though she would try to find him first.

Then, it occurred to her that something was weird. And she realized why she felt that way. Usually when she switched from one place to another, she was always wrapped in some kind of white smooth mist, why not this time?

"Because I'm the one that brought you here, this time!" said a voice in front of her.

She squinted at the darkness, and what she saw froze her blood. The image she thought her mind had created was there, walking creepily towards her. And now that the creature appeared in the dim light, she understood why this cave stink.

The creature looked like the fusion of two mythological animals. The bottom part looked for her like a spider, only the creature had four grey hairy legs. The top was more human like, except for the long slithery greyish arms. She shivered when the small dim light reflected on the sharp nails protruding from her slimy hands. She deduced the smell was probably due to the viscous grey liquid exuding from her skin. A bald bluish head turned toward her a row of dark decomposing teeth.

"This time?" repeated Brennan, putting a hand in front of her nose as the creature stopped few feet from her.

The creature opened her decaying mouth and spoke, "It seems your friend had managed to protect you all this time," the thing croaked before Brennan. "Every time I was getting too close to you, he pulled me away and sent you somewhere else...Damn mist!" cursed the creature.

"The mist?" shot Brennan, with wide eyes, "it was him?"

"Yeah," spat the creature angrily, "I never thought this little human had so much strength left in him."

Cracked lips parted into what seemed to Brennan, was a smile, "but I guess that's what makes him so appetizing," the creature added licking her lips as she had just eaten something really sweet.

Brennan swallowed, shivering as she realized the creature in front of her was the evil spirit trapping Booth and for which Maman Anise had warned her about.

Glowing eyes darted to Brennan, "did you ever think you were going to save him!" the creature snarled, "he is mine!"

Her greyish blue skin glowed as her arms gripped Brennan's throat and lifted her several inches from the ground. Her feet fluttered aimlessly into the air to break free.

"You won't win, he's stronger than you, " retorted Brennan trying to breath despite the iron grip.

Her hands grasped the slimy arms. But the grip was strong and her fingers slicked as she tried to free her throat.

"Maybe,... and maybe he's strong because of you..." said the creature.

Her face came inches to Brennan. She heaved under the stench of the creature's breath. She felt the tight grip squeezing more.

"But if you're not there, I wonder if he would be that strong?" snapped the creature.

"You can't kill me," breathed out Brennan, hoping she was right.

Her face reddened from the lack of oxygen.

The creature laughed, and deepened her sharp nails into her soft skin. Blood leaked from the small cuts and slid to her back.

"you're right, I can't kill your body,..." the creature giggled, "... but I can destroy your mind..." starting into a scary laugh.

Brennan shivered, hardly breathing. She didn't know how to save herself.

ooooooo

Booth stared at the sand where his partner knelt few moments ago. His hands dug into the sands. But he found nothing. Nothing but dust. Scared he let the sand seeped from his fists like water.

How could she disappear like that? What happened? Where did she go?

All these questions assaulted his brain like a riffle's shot. His vision spun as his heart tightened inside his chest. He needed to answer these questions and needed it fast. His gut was telling him she was in danger.

You're alone, had said a voice. He didn't know who it was, but he got a pretty idea it could be linked.

He had always known he wasn't alone. But when he had found Brennan, he had foolishly thought she was the other presence that he had felt. But now he had real doubts about it. Unfortunately, he didn't know or remember what it was, but he knew now they weren't alone.

He pushed on his aching legs and stood in the middle of the walls of sand. The vision of giant sand waves, and mainly when you were where they would fall, could have frightened anyone, but Booth knew what was holding them. It was him. More precisely his will, and right now he needed to gather all his strength to find Brennan.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on her. Her face printed before his eyes. A faint smile spread on his face, how could he have forgotten her?

Then, he opened his mind and sent a mental question, Bones where are you?

The walls started to tremble around him, sending jolts of pain in his legs. Sweat quickly beaded his forehead under the effort to control the walls and find Brennan.

Breathing heavily, he slowly opened his eyes and glanced at the trembling walls. Maybe he should get rid of them first, he thought. Closing his eyes once more, he focused only on the walls. The tremors increased. Sand slid from the top of the walls and crashed near his feet, hemming him in a small dust cloud.

Then, slowly the sand rolled back in loud thunders. Few seconds later the sand had retrieved its place at the top of the hills. A deathly silence filled the place.

His legs shook ready to give out. He tried to stay up, but the small tremors running through his muscles didn't leave him a lot of choice. He crouched, and tried to get his breath back.

Now Bones, he thought. Come on Booth, he urged to himself, you don't have time for a rest! Later maybe, he added mentally, I'll rest later. And with this in mind, he straightened again on his weak legs pushing with his hands.

As he stood, he exhaled a deep breath. Once more, his eyes closed. No time to lose, he thought. He focused immediately on her. A lingering pain returned behind his eyes. He breathed deeply and let the pain passed through him. He had to stay focus on her, no matter what.

Then, his mind found it. Although everything was dark around him, he could feel a small warm presence. Like a candle fighting to push the darkness away, she was there casting a path to him. A concerned line broke his forehead. She wasn't alone, he realized as fear wrapped his soul.

"You're powerless," snarled a deep voice, "you won't find her!"

Booth opened his eyes seeking where the voice had come from. But the place remained desert. He gritted his teeth. If this thing had hurt Brennan, he would kill it with his bare hands.

"Bring her back!" he ordered, angry.

The voice giggled, amused by his demand, "why would I?"

His stomach twisted, this thing enjoyed this whole situation, playing with them. The thought made him sick.

"You want me!" shot Booth.

"Maybe," answered the thing, "and maybe I'm happy with her!"

"Let her go, and I'll do everything you want!" said Booth, dropping his shoulders.

Silence followed his words. Booth hoped the thing was really considering his proposition. He knew it was foolish and Brennan would be pissed after him. But he had to save her. She was his responsibility, his friend, this, he did remember. Something else grew in his mind as his thoughts turned to her, another feeling, something he couldn't explain with words. He swallowed. His heart was beating fast with each seconds, he had to save her.

"Why would I let her go when I can have both of you?" the voice giggled breaking the deafening silence, "but don't worry, I will take care of you soon!"

"Fine," Booth shot back, "but I'm warning you if you have hurt her, I promise you would die here!"

The voice started into a long laugh, "of course I'm hurting her, what did you expect?"

His blood boiled in his vein as his anger raised.

"Then you're dead," he said, shutting his eyes.

He focused on her warmth and quickly found the path she had left for him. He wouldn't let anything stand between then! The small path widened. The light brightened. He had found her.

Focusing on her, he felt her life going away. The thing was hurting her, he could feel it. He clenched his fists under his anger.

Then he saw her. Damn nails were penetrating her thin skin, and then it was too much. Something exploded inside him. Something he couldn't explain. A fierce strength coursed through his muscles, boiling in his veins. He wouldn't let anything happen to her!...never!

With one thought, he wiped away the darkness between them. Replacing them by a blinding light.

Surprise by the offending light, the creature let go of Brennan.

She felt the grip loosen around her neck, but too weak to stand on her legs she dropped to the floor.

Her muscles tensed expecting to hit the rocky ground, but instead strong arms wrapped her. Warm fingers ran inside her auburn hair, keeping her head pressed against a smooth shoulder. Her eyes closed, she abandoned herself to this soothing moment. She wasn't alone. Someone had come for her, and she knew who it was.

Quick heartbeats were pounding in the chest she had snuggled her face into.

She raised a concerned look toward her partner. A faint smile welcomed her. Sweat was damping his brown hair, sticking them to his neck.

"You have to leave..." He said panting.

"I'm not leaving you, Booth," she answered without thinking.

He breathed deeply and dropped to his knees, pulling her down with him.

She could see he was exhausted to the point that even breathing was too much of an effort.

"Booth, what..." she asked with worry.

"Shh,..." he cut pressing a weak finger to her lips.

"Listen,..." his eyes glanced at the floor as he tried to take a deep breath.

Unfortunately, he only managed to take a shallow breath, and was still panting when his exhausted brown eyes connected with Brennan.

"I need you...to leave... trust me, Bones," he breathed out.

"I'm not!" she voiced.

Too tired, Booth leant his head on her shoulder and exhaled deeply.

"Did you see where we are?" he muffled near her ear.

Frowning, Brennan shot a glance at her surroundings. Dunes of golden sand surrounded them.

"We're back where the sand almost buried us," she said staring with surprise at his neck.

"Yeah," he paused, heaving, "that's why... you have to leave!"

"I don't understand?" she said puzzled.

"I don't have enough strength to protect us, Bones... that's why you have to leave,..." he panted, "I'll be okay."

"But maybe I can help," she retorted, afraid to leave him alone.

"It's not your fight Bones,... you have done enough already, trust me!"

Painfully, he raised his head and stared at her. He wanted to make sure she would leave. His dark brown stare deepened in the ocean of her eyes.

"Trust me, Temperance, I'll be okay."

Small tears seeped from the corner of her eyes. With a shaking hand, her thumb wiped the sweat from his left temple and caressed his cheek.

"I'll be waiting for you!"

"I'm counting on it," he said, shooting her a small charming smile between shallow breaths.

"Whatever that thing says don't believe it," she added sniffing.

She snuggled her face in his neck and wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her.

"I trust you, Booth!" she said, swallowing the threatening sob.

He squeezed her frail body against him, closing his eyes he prayed to have a chance to see her again.

Then, she slowly left the comfort of his arms and raiseda pair of red eyes on him.

"Booth, I..." but the words stayed stuck in her throat.

Silently, she stared at the unconscious form lying in the bed. His feature was still pale and hollow, though this time, a faint and regular beep echoed in the hospital room.

Wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks, she pressed her face against his. Forehead against forehead, she placed a soft kiss near his lips.

"I'm waiting for you Booth!" she whispered.

She held her breath, hoping it could have triggered something in him. But only the regular beep sounded in the room.

Then, a clinging noise pulled her from her reverie. Looking at the door, she noticed that someone was trying to force the door.

Unwillingly, she jumped to the floor. Careful not to take with her his IV she left his side to unlock the door.

Immediately, the door opened in a whoosh. An angry nurse rushed in and glared at her.

"These doors aren't meant to be locked mam!" she glanced at the still form in the bed and then shot a dreadful stare at Brennan.

The nurse was about to raise the tone when she noticed Brennan's weak state.

Disheveled, Brennan was trying to stand without swaying too much while the nurse threw her anger at her. But instead of yelling at her, the nurse stopped and pressed one hand on her left arm. She guided her to the nearest chair, which was actually near Booth's bed and waited that she sits. Not caring about the nurse, Brennan dropped into the chair and stared at Booth.

"I'm sorry mam," the nurse apologized "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that,... I was worry something had happened to you."

Brennan sighed, "I'm fine, my partner, he's the one who really needs care right now," she stated, pointing to Booth with her chin.

The nurse breathed deeply. This woman is losing her mind, she thought. Then, the faint beep from the monitor made her frowned. Turning toward Booth, her eyes widened. Her next words stuck in her throat. On the monitor, the flat line she expected to see was waving slowly at the rhythm of the beeps.

"That's...that's..." she repeated before casting a stunned look to Brennan.

"I told you, he wouldn't give up," said confidently Brennan.

"Mary, holy mother of god," swore the nurse.

Grabbing the call button, she pressed on it and started to check Booth's vitals.

Few seconds later, two other nurses rushed in the room.

"Why did you call us, Maria?" asked a small brunette with round glasses.

"Call the doctor!" cut Maria, "his patient is alive!"

The brunette stared at her puzzled, but quickly recomposed herself and ran outside to get the doctor.

Then, she lifted his bandaged wrist, checking the IV line "He's cold," she stated to the other nurse who was staring at her from the door, "bring the heated blanket!" she ordered.

Brennan watched, leaning her tired body on the back of the chair as doctors and nurses came in and out of the room, pleased that they were finally taking care of Booth. Though she couldn't resist and reach for his hand, oblivious of the buzzing people around them.

One doctor noticed her and ordered to the nurses to drive her out of the room.

"I'm not leaving," she said, looking straight at him.

She tightened her grip on his hand. She wouldn't abandon him.

"You thought he was dead!" she admonished, "You had given up on him a long time ago! So now you're not going to separate us when he needs me the most, no way!" she snapped.

The doctor frowned, "But mam..." he started.

"I'm here and I won't leave without him, deal with it!" she cut, staring at the doctor, her daunting eyes threatening him to dare say otherwise.

Finally, swallowing his words, the doctor nodded. His priority was after all his patient's life. He couldn't stop her to be here if she wanted to. She was too stubborn for that, as he had already got the time to meet her stubborn side.

He nodded to the nurse to let her do as she wished.

Cuddling his cold hand in hers, Brennan leant close to his face as the nurses covered his bare chest with a heated blanket.

"I need you Booth," she whispered to his ear.

ooooooo

The golden sand was all that was left in his arms. As he looked down, the small golden grains seeped from his fingers like waterfalls. She was gone, and with her, the only reason he had to go on. He sighed. It was better for both of them anyway. Now she wouldn't be hurt. Now that thing could do anything, he just didn't care anymore.

Alone in the center of this sand valley, Booth scanned the blue sky over him. Frankly, he had no clue how to get out of here. He didn't even know if he knew enough about himself to escape this nightmare.

He wished he could feel her presence. Brennan had that amazing ability to sooth him, and somehow he wished selfishly she hadn't listened to him and had stayed.

A small breeze lifted a yellow dust cloud in his direction, cooling his body by the same way. He sighed, sweat had stung his shirt to his skin, so he welcomed the wind with delight.

"Now you're all alone," scorned the thing.

Booth looked down, "I wish I were," he snapped, "but it seems you don't want to leave."

The wind grew stronger, blowing a cloud of dust on the top of the hill. As the cloud disappeared, Booth noticed the form that emerged from, it was more alike a human.

The form walked slowly toward him.

"How could I ever leave you son?" spoke the man in front of Booth.

Booth froze, as the breeze wiped away the last dust cloud that covered the man's face.

ooooooo

The room was desert now. All the hospitals staff had left five minutes ago. Brennan was now the only one left in his room. She had managed to warm his hand between hers when it happened. At first she took it like a good thing, but now she was beginning to be scared.

Something's wrong, she thought.

His heartbeats had grown stronger, and she had thought he was regaining consciousness. But few minutes after this increase, it was way too high to be a good sign. And by the time the nurse she had called arrived, his heart was around one thirty.

"He's gonna crash!" yelled the doctor that had followed the nurse.

Brennan closed her eyes. It has begun, she thought.

ooooooo

Booth couldn't believe it. Before him stood a man in his mid fifties. Grey hair around the temples, the man shot a brown stare straight to Booth.

"What's the matter son? You don't recognize your old man?" scolded the man.

"This isn't real!" said Booth,"you're not my dad!"

"And how's that son? So you do remember me after all!"

Booth's breathing increased. He was right! Part of his memories had recognized him as his dad, though it couldn't be him!

"I don't know you... you're this thing,... this ugly creature that tried to kill my partner!"

"I'm not an ugly creature son, look at me!" the man raised his arms to the sky, "look!"

"Yes, you are and stopped calling me like that!" snapped Booth, "you're not him!"

"I'm his spirit!" retorted the man, winking.

"That's not true! And why would you appeared as this creature if you were my dad?" questioned Booth with defiance.

"Because you made me this way, son!" stated the man.

"What?" Booth shot a stunned look to the man, "Why would I imagine such a thing?"

The man sighed.

"What do you think could come from a tortured and murderer mind like yours, son?" whispered evilly the man.

The words hit Booth right in the chest like a blade.

"That's..." he breathed loudly, "that's not true," he whispered, his sight wandering on the hills behind the man.

"Oh no son. Deep down in your heart you know I'm right!" the man waited for the words to sink, "Don't try to deny it! It's just gonna make it hurt more!" the man stepped toward Booth with an open hand, "let me help you!"

"I'm not a murderer," voiced Booth. Beads of sweat rolled down from his temples.

He pressed one hand in the center of his chest, massaging it, and tried to sooth the small throbbing pain that had started few minutes ago.

"If you're not a murderer, tell me who they are?" scorned the man claiming to be his dad.

He waved a hand to his right. Then, appearing from nowhere, five people materialized near the man. Three of them were wearing uniforms, another was dressed in black suit as for the last one, afghan fabric wrapped his body.

"Tell them, you are not their Nemesis?" snapped the man.

Booth face's turned pale as he recognized each of them. Faces that were once targets.

"Tell them, you're not the one that blew their brain with one bullet!" said the man raising an angry tone.

Booth swallowed hard. His throat was dry and the pain in his chest worsened to the point it made him trembled. In addition to this, his breathing was still shallow and didn't help him to keep a clear head.

"Tell them that you're not the one that killed them in front of their child!" was now screaming the man.

He pointed to the man in black suit.

"It was his son's birthday party for God's sake!" yelled the man.

"I..." began Booth, but his voice was stuck in his throat. He felt hot tears wetting his eyes.

"I'm sorry..." he mumbled, "It was my job..." he said his voice trailing off.

"Your job?" yelled the man, "How could you kill him like that?" questioned the man, with unconcealed disgust in the voice.

Then he struck harder, "You're a killer!" he said dropping a bomb he knew would hurt Booth. "You did this," he said, pointing at the ghosts at his sides. "a butcher, a murderer..." he added coldly, "that's what you are!"

Each word stabbed Booth deep in his soul. He had done this for his country, to protect people, and he had always accepted that burden. But he had never thought he could be compared to a cold blooded killer.

"You're not my dad," he said almost whimpering.

The words had hurt him harder than he thought, and he was now having a hard time to keep his mind focused on his main goal, find a way out.

"Whatever you think of me son, it doesn't change the facts... You are a killer!" said the man, emphasizing each word, "and nothing, nor you or me will change that!" he stated in a final strike.

Then, he couldn't bear it anymore. The pain in his chest exploded and Booth dropped to one knee, panting heavily. His pounding headache burst behind his eyes hurting like hell. In a futile act, he pressed his hands on his ears to stop the words.

"I'm not like that," he mumbled more to himself, "I'm more...I have a son..." he breathed out deeply, calming the beating that thumped in his chest. "His name is..." he fought to remember increasing the pain thumping inside his skull, "his name is..."a crease appeared on his forehead as the name escaped his memory.

" Tsss... tsss..." said the man pretending to be his father, "you see, nobody 's gonna miss you! You have nothing! You are nothing!" hammered the man, stressing the words, "so why don't you let go that miserable life of yours and let me help you, son!" proposed the man, an evil stare curving his face.

"Surrender to me, and I'll help you to become a better caring man and father!" the man hissed, a dark shadow crossed his eyes as if he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

Father... the word echoed in Booth's mind, like a blow. I am a father, so it's true! He felt like a veil had been lifted from his mind. Bones was right! A faint smile spread on his lips. He opened his eyes staring at the man pretending to be his dad. But how does he know that when I can't remember? Wondered Booth.

Remember Booth, Brennan's words echoed in the back of his mind, don't believe him!

Still panting, his hands dropped into the sand. The small grains were warm and dry on his skin. Easing his breathing, he closed his hands into fists. He would not let this thing drive him crazy.

"I know what you're doing," he breathed out, "sorry... But you won't win!" he said smirking between shallow breaths, "I may not know... everything... about myself, but I...I... don't need you for that!"

"I could help you son, why are you rejecting me?" said the man, looking like he was hurt, "you know I have always loved you...I just want to help!"

"I don't think so!" cut Booth.

His head still throbbing, he stood shakily on his legs. He fought to stay up while few seconds before glaring at the man.

"Get out of my mind!" he added, on a commanding tone.

His brown stare darted to the man who pretended to be his dad. As he yelled, the man before him changed into an ugly thing. The creature raised her arms in his direction, a dark smile carved in her face. Her grey bluish skin glistened under the sun.

"Son," she hissed, "come and kiss me," scolded the creature, giggling as she waved her arms to hug him.

Booth stepped back, avoiding the creepy embrace.

"What are you?" he dropped.

The creature sighed, "ah, you spoil all the fun!"

Booth bit his lips waiting.

"I really want to help you," she croaked holding her arms before her.

"Stop that mad game!" cut sharply Booth, "I'm not gonna fall for your arguments, so why don't you save your saliva and get the hell out of here!"

Slowly, the creature dropped her arms and let them hung loosely to her side. A wicked smile spread on her face.

"Too bad," scolded the creature, "I would have enjoyed to devour you willingly."

Booth stepped back, putting a distance between him and the rotting thing in front of him.

The creature crouched slowly to her knees, not leaving his stare.

"Now, look what you've done, I'm gonna have to degrade my meal!" she said, as she jumped on him.

Taken aback, Booth only had the time to tense his muscles before the shock. The force made him fall backwards. He rolled in the sand, the creature tangled up with him.

Her high pitched screams pierced his eardrums. As they stopped, his back on the ground and the creature in top of him, the sun cast its light straight to his eyes. Squinting, he distinguished her hand heading to his face. His head turned to the opposite side. Avoiding her strike, he felt the whoosh of sharp nails stabbing the sand near his left ear.

The creature cursed.

ooooooo

"He's crashing!" yelled the doctor.

The nurses rushed toward Booth. In a quick move, they pulled the heated blanket in a whoosh, revealing his bare chest.

"Prepared for shock!" yelled the same doctor.

The nurse applied gel on the pad, and he rubbed them together. His eyes were glued to the monitor, ready to shock him as soon as his heart would stop.

His heartbeat was getting dangerously too high.

Standing near his side, Brennan watched with anxiety as the beep approached dangerously one sixty seven.

"Hold on, Booth!" she said, "You're strong! Don't let it beat you!"

ooooooo

He brought his legs to his chest. Then, in a sudden outburst, he threw them at the creature. She jolted backwards.

"Give up," said unctuously the creature as she stood up, "you have nothing to stand up for!"

"You're wrong, I have her!" answered Booth, panting.

The weight on his chest increased, giving him a hard time to breath.

"She abandoned you," she snarled, "you have only been a burden for her!"

Booth breathed deeply, trying to focus his mind on Brennan. She was the only person he really remembered as the others were too fuzzy in his mind. She trusted him. He wouldn't give up on her, whatever that thing would say.

"I asked her to leave!" he retorted in a small breath.

Maybe, he thought, talking will give him sometimes to find a plan and escape this nightmare. His hands sank in the sand, supporting his weight. He straightened up facing his enemy. But a strong stench invaded his lungs making his stomach heaved.

"Now you're really showing yourself," he smirked faintly, speaking about the smell.

The creature growled before flying toward him. But this time Booth was prepared and skipped easily aside to avoid her dangerous blades. Seeing his victim trying to escape the creature extended her arms to reach him. Her nails cut through the fabric of his shirt and ripped the flesh underneath.

"It's only a beginning!" the creature hissed.

The black void of her eyes sent shivers into his muscles. Pressing his right arm against his chest, he stared at the thing that had tried to mislead him.

"I'm not as weak as you may think," yelled Booth.

He glanced at his stomach, blood was staining slowly his white shirt in three crimson lines. Beads of sweat ran from his temples and to the line of his jawbone. He didn't have a lot of time, he thought.

"This is a fg nightmare!" he cursed, his voice trembling from the shooting pain coming from his chest and stomach, "You don't exist!"

A long growl escaped from the creature as she straightened her neck to the sky.

"I am as real as you can be in this..." she scorned.

"No you're not!" he spat, "you're here because I let you live."

He took a deep breath, "but I'm gonna change that!"

His dark brown eyes shot a threatening stare at the creature.

"Now, you are going to leave this place!" ordered Booth as he stared straight at his enemy.

"You can't defeat me!" cut sharply the creature, "I will always be!"

"Be what?" smirked Booth, "a lost pain in the ass!" he coughed, and bent, his arm pressing on his wound.

Anger crossed the creature's face. She charged him.

Still holding his ribs, Booth glanced at the creature running toward him. He sighed and closed his eyes. It was time that he trusts himself. He let her coming. He heard her breathing in and out harshly as her pace increased.

Then, the creature jumped and hit an invisible barrier with all of her strength. She stayed suspended into the air for a moment before she slid slowly to the ground, looking a little groggy.

"Told you, it's over!" added Booth.

The creature growled before raising on her greyish and skinny legs.

"You've only delayed your end!" she snarled, revealing a row of sharp black teeth.

Standing in all her height, the creature glared at Booth.

"Your defense is nothing compared to my powers. The strength I got is from all the lives I devoured," the creature giggled, "and soon, you'll be part of them, it's only a matter of time before your mind weakened again, and then my claws will close on you!"

Booth smiled weakly, and shot a cocky glare to the creature.

"If I had surrendered to those who said the same things, I'd be long gone by now."

He sucked in a shallow breath as he squeezed his chest. Holding back the shooting pain that spread in his muscles, he stared at the creature.

"I can't afford to lose," he hissed, "... She's waiting for me."

"She's not!" replied scornfully the creature.

Breathing was becoming very difficult now for Booth and unfortunately, each breath was costing him strength he couldn't afford to lose.

But his enemy counted on it, and so the creature started to jump again and again, crashing every time on his barrier like a bug on a windshield. These tests weakened him. By the time the creature caught a glitch in his barrier, Booth was panting hard, hands on his knees to support him.

"Your defense weakens," noticed gleefully the creature.

An evil smile curved her mouth. A dark blue tongue licked her cracked bluish lips, showing her sharp teeth before she headed back toward her prey.

This time the blow shook the barrier. Sparkles flew into the air, and Booth had to calm his breath to maintain his protection and drain the shooting pain from his bones.

Damn, he cursed, I'm not gonna hold indefinitely.

"No you're not," answered the creature as if she could read his mind, "let's see what you would do with that."

On this word, her left hand pointed to the top of the hill. Rolling thunder followed her words. The ground trembled in pain. The tremors invaded Booth, and he stumbled trying to keep his stance. With horror, he saw the top of the hills collapsed. A flow of sand slid the long of the hills and toward him.

Looking down, he focused his mind on his barrier. Sweats dripped from his forehead to the ground. The effort was tremendous to rebuild them at full capacity, and he hoped he would have enpugh strength to do it. The rushing flow of sand was close now. He shut his eyes as he inhaled deeply. He was going to need it.

An awful bang echoed when the sand collided with his barrier. He panted heavily as the sand pushed hardly on the walls.

His mind focused on the barrier, he didn't see the creature soaring from the ground behind him a dark grin on her face. Her trap working.

Silently, his enemy raised from the ground. Her sharp claws ready, she aimed at his back and struck. Her claws sank into his flesh carving a large opening. Blood flooded from the opening wound.

Hot pain flashed from his back and tore him a scream. Booth sank to his knees, unable to breath.

The creature smiled, now he would be hers.

ooooooo

"Crashing!" voiced the doctor.

He pressed the cold metallic pads on Booth's chest.

"Charged!" answered a nurse behind him.

"Clear," he voiced.

The medical staff stepped back instantly. Without hesitation, he sent the jolt. Booth's body arched. Brennan witnessed helpless as his muscles tensed and went rigid as the electricity spread through his body. The tearing sound of the flat line, tightened her heart. This couldn't be real. He was so close, he couldn't abandon her now!

The second discharge sparkled into the room emptying her lungs at the same time.

"Okay, one more," yelled the doctor.

She stared at his ashen face, waiting for the electricity to fade and to be able to hold his hand again. No matter what, she thought, she would be there for him.

ooooooo

A crimson flow soaked his shredded shirt and dripped to the ground. The golden sand reddened as a small pool formed under him. He felt dizzy. The walls around him spun and became blurry as his vision grayed. He felt the cold fingers of the creature caressing his neck. A creepy feeling invaded him as he felt the bloody nails on his skin. It sent shivers along his spine.

"This is the end," whispered the beast into his ear.

The slimy and sticky fingers wrapped his throat and squeezed. One last breath escaped his lips before his lungs started to burn. His thought wandered to Brennan. The only person who had enough faith in him to come this long.

She's waiting, whispered his mind, she's waiting for you. The glimmer of her ocean eyes danced in his mind and gave him a new breath. He told her he would be fine, and yet he wasn't. If he wanted to see her, he couldn't let slumber overtake him.

"Come on Seeley," he thought trying to encourage himself, "you had tougher times! This is only a dream, and dream can be controlled! Focus on it!"

Gathering the few forces left in him, he opened his eyes.His stare was dark and glared dangerously at the creature. It was his last chance.

"Get off me!" he yelled with all his strength.

A sparkle blew out the creature and tossed her ten feet from him, behind the barrier. She stared at Booth with awe, a new feeling glistening in her eyes, fear. No human had ever thrown her with so less efforts. Her sight lasted on him, thinking. It couldn't be that strong.

She shook her head. It didn't matter. Even if this human had found the strength to get rid of her, this last effort had probably exhausted him. His laborious breathing confirmed it. It was time to dispose of him, she thought.

She gathered all her powers, an evil smile curving her lips. She had kept some energy as she had never imagined he would be worth to use it. But now she would unleash everything she had. Even her, with all her magic taken from thousands souls couldn't stay in a body for too long if she didn't control it. The limbo already started to pull her spirit from him. She increased the force behind the walls. He shouldn't be able to hold for much longer.

Booth panted, his rasping breath echoed in his ears. Dark spots stained his vision as life was slowly leaking out of his body. His last effort had freed him from his enemy, but at what cost?

He had been drained from his reserve and was now fighting to stay conscious. As a result, keeping the energy level in his barrier wasn't going to be easy.

You're in a dream, it can't kill you, he tried to convince himself. Hell, the pain was real, and he couldn't deny it.

His knees deep in the sand, he assisted powerless as the creature which had climbed to the top of the hill, launched her last attack against him. The barrier maintaining the walls of sand quickly reached its critical point. The pressure was too much.

Dust slipped from the top and fell on his face, clouding his vision. He coughed, spitting the sandy grains out of his mouth.

Then he heard it. A scream tearing the sky. His barrier was breaking in a loud crack. The terrible sound echoed in his ears just before he witnessed the walls collapsing on him. Then, the light disappeared. Tons of dirt crushed him. His body was tossed in the falling dirt. He rolled with the flow and stopped abruptly. The sand's weight emptied his lungs in one second. Disoriented and out of breath, he felt like a truck was on his chest and everything went dark.

The sand had completely submerged him. The lack of air and the hot pain coursing inside his body was all that was left. As he tried to dig himself out vainly, a small ray of light appeared over him. He thought he was dreaming. Out of breath and his vision darkening, in a last effort he extended his hand reaching out for the light over him.

Brennan almost jumped when cold fingers grabbed her wrist.

"Wait!" voiced one nurse, "he's back!" she added, pointing the waving line on the monitor.

A steady line waved sluggishly on the screen. The doctor set the pad on its bases and sighed. His job was done, the patient would live, he thought, well assuming his brain hadn't suffered from the lack of oxygen.

"Booth!" Brennan let out, staring at the hand strongly clenched at her wrist.

She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it gently.

"Stay with me," she whispered as she leant over him.

The light increased, blinding him. Why everything was so white and shiny? He complained. It was too bright to see anything. He squinted though there was nothing more than this white shiny light.

He was floating lightly inside the light. Then he realized he felt nothing. The pain in his back had suddenly vanished as soon as he had headed to the light. His pounding headache and the lingering pain in his chest were gone too, in fact he felt no pain at all.

Where am I? Someone's there? He asked aloud. The sound of his voice disappeared, muffled by the glacial place. Am I dead? Is this paradise?

Then, a voice echoed softly.

"Stay..."

He looked around him, seeking where the voice was coming from, but everything was white and bright.

"What?" he shot back.

"... with me..." whispered the voice.

"Who..." he began, but stopped immediately recognizing the voice. His heart jumped in his chest. She's there somewhere, he thought. She hadn't forgotten me!

"Bones," he called.

The name echoed in the white void. He waited anxious to hear her voice. But only the silence answered him. Dream, he thought his hope melting, I'm just dreaming. A heavy sadness wrapped him. He had failed and he was dead.

But suddenly, he felt being pulled upwards. The light became brighter and he had to close his eyes as it started to burn.

"Stay..." echoed again the same voice.

"Bones..." he answered suddenly feeling very tired.

He tried to raise but couldn't. Heavy weight was pinning him to the ground he was discovering now. His body ached everywhere. His arms and legs were heavy and numb, and it became almost impossible for him to move without sending awful jolts of pain through his entire body. A deafening sound hammered in his head. But the worst was the cold, terrible cold in his limbs and chest making his breathing the worst experience ever. With each breath, freezing air filled his lungs sending shivers all over his body.

"I can't see you!" he muttered, "Where are you?" his voice trailed off.

"I'm here Booth," the voice whispered softly.

"Bones..." his tongue felt sluggish. Is it death? He asked to himself. He tried to take a deep breath but his lungs were paralyzed by the cold, and he ended up coughing and shivering. Then, the pressure on his chest faded, slowly replaced by a gentle warmth.

He listened to his heart beating fast in his ears. The pain was everywhere now. Then, a soft heat warmed his right cheek. The heat moved slowly to his temple and danced for sometimes in his hair. The thumping of his heart began to slow down and slowly his breathing matched the same rhythm.

Someone whispered to his ear, "welcome back..."

Then, something wet dropped to his cheek before he slumbered into the darkness.

ooooooo

She smiled gazing at his pale features. The sun shone on his ashen skin. Of course he didn't look good. He hadn't been able to open his eyes and look at her. But he spoke, and his words were the first she had heard in a long time. Softly, she caressed his cheek again. His cold skin sent shivers in her body and a knot formed in her throat. Breathing wasn't easy since she had come back from the dream. But she tried to breath deeply, as she stroked unconsciously his hand. She hoped maybe he would match her slow breathing and regain the world of the living faster this way. But since she had started it nothing had happened. It was five hours ago, and now the sun was high in the sky.

The doctor and nurses had left few minutes after his first words. And again, Booth was hooked up to a lot of monitors. Too many wires plunged under his skin that it was difficult to see a part of his skin free of any IV.

She sighed. At least he was alive. The knot in her gut twisted. Two hours ago, his doctor had come to check on him. Stirring in her chair after drowsing, Brennan had jumped on the occasion to talk to him. She needed to know if he was going to be okay. But the answer hadn't been the one she expected.

The doctor had first plunged his blue eyes in hers, admitting he had done some mistakes with Booth, and he should have listened to her. That way, he had added, Booth wouldn't have had to face these new complications. What kind of complications she had asked eagerly, her heart sinking in new darkness.

The doctor had then cleared his throat, and had started to explain how many shocks his body had survived to, weakening his organs. And to that, he had said, he had been in a coma with little oxygen brought to his brain. As the doctor had explained the situation, Brennan had felt the ground slowly swallowing her. He's not telling me that, she had thought. With a small voice, she had asked if he would have any sequel. With the time, had answered the doctor, we will see.

Time! The word echoed painfully in her mind. Why did everything have to be a matter of time?

Her stare slid on his form hidden under several layers of blankets.

Hope! She thought. It was the other word struggling inside her mind since that conversation. Booth would have told her that hoping for the best was better than coldly calculate his odds to have a damaged brain. And so, she had shut the door on the rational part of her mind who wanted to estimate his odds, and had let his emotional side lead her.

She let out a deep breath as her head rested on his hand snuggled between her fingers. The only thing she could do was wait now.

ooooooo

He couldn't move. Paralyzed inside more darkness, he wondered if this time he was dead or in another hellish nightmare. He was sick of all these silly games and didn't know if he could survive to another round.

A low buzzing of voices echoed to his right. The words weren't clear but he could distinguish more than two different voices. One was imperative, giving orders to the other that squealed lightly to answer. But between the maelstrom of rustling voices one was different, softer than the others, and slowly whispering his names.

He tried to answer but his mouth was sluggish, and he only managed to mumble her name. Actually, she was the only thing he could really focus on right now. His mind was too cloudy to think straight anyway.

Something squeezed slightly his hand. He tried to squeeze back but his fingers refused to move, and he let out a sigh of frustration. If someone was there, he had probably heard his sigh as a warm hand began to caress his forehead. Sluggishly, he tried to see who it was. His eyelids were heavy like lead, and it took him all his strength and several minutes before he finally managed to crack one eye open.

A splash of light assaulted his eye sending jolts of pain inside his head. He moaned, dropping his eyelid and shutting the unwelcomed light out of his brain.

"it's okay, Booth, take your time," whispered the voice.

A loud pounding beat beneath his skull. He tried to bring his hand to rub the shooting spot near his temple. Unfortunately, his hand was strapped by something and the slight move brought only more pain into his shoulder. Hopeless, his hand dropped back on a soft fabric. A painful groan escaped his lips. It was like this small move had woked up all the aching spots in his body.

" Shhh," the voice whispered, "don't try to move."

Soft lips dropped a kiss on his forehead.

He was so exhausted, he didn't feel the shaking fingers running in his hair.

She left his cold cheek to look at the doctor. She gave him a silent nod with her eyes. The doctor pressed on a button, and a clear liquid dripped into his IV. Soon, he would be sleeping, she thought, stroking delicately his hair. Soon the pain he was enduring will go away. She leant her head against his shoulder, careful not to awake more painful spot.

The doctor sneaked out silently. In the last couple of days, he had learnt not to get between those two. Beside, his patient seemed to get better when she was around. He closed the door quietly. Time to let them both rest, he thought.

ooooooo

The flowers she had in hand perfumed the corridor as she made her way to his room. She glanced at her partner to her side. He was making a tired face. But as soon as he caught her looking at him, a faint smile crept on his face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"I'm sure they're fine," he said.

"If they were, she would have called!" she snapped back.

She bit her lower lip as soon as the words came out.

"Sorry Jack," she apologized, "but you know what I meant!"

"I know," he sighed, "maybe she had no more news Ange!"

"It's been two days! And we haven't seen her once!"

"yes, but she called," he added, grinning.

"Perhaps," Angela seemed to calm a bit.

"I need to see her, and that she's not lying to me! I don't want her to lose herself if he's not recovering well."

"Maybe, but that's not for you to decide it!" her companion added softly.

"She's my best friend, Jack!" she said raising her voice.

People around them shot them concerned looks. She kept walking ignoring the stares.

"Yes she is," he said, softening his tone, "but right now she needs him as much as he's going to need her, " he lowered his voice, "I'm sorry baby."

She stopped, looking at his blue eyes. She breathed deeply.

"I'm worry about him too, he's my friend," she admitted.

"I know, he's mine too. I'm just saying that right now, they might need to be alone. As you said before, Ange, they know we're here for them. So we should wait until she's ready to tell you more."

She thought for a minute, staring at the flowerpot she was holding. A giant yellow duck sat in the middle holding a get well card in his plastic beak. A faint smile curved her lips. The duck was Jack's idea.

"Okay," she said finally as she resumed her pace, "we'll just drop this!".

Jack followed her silently. Few minutes later, they arrived in front of a white door.

Angela gulped, remembering the last time she had stood in front of a door like that. The next thing she had discovered when they had opened the door was a pool of blood and Booth limp in the middle. A warm hand patted her shoulder. She glanced at her boyfriend.

"We go in and we go out, remember," he said softly.

She nodded. Hodgins knocked on the door.

No answer. Both exchanged concerned looks.

One more time he knocked and waited for an answer.

"Jack?" frowned Angela.

A small line of worry appeared on his forehead.

"Just a moment, "he said, opening the door.

He sneaked his head inside. It took the longest minute Angela had ever experienced to turn and look at her.

"They're fine," he said to his worried girlfriend.

"Let me see," she ordered, tossing the flowerpot in his arms.

She took a deep breath before opening the door and sneaked her head in.

The nice and steady beep of a cardiac monitor echoed. The room was dim though thanks to the monitors' green lights she could see them in the middle of the place. A lot of wires were plugged inside Booth's arms and torso. Her stomach twisted inside as she noticed his pale features. But a small grin curved her lips when she noted the small form snuggled to his side. Auburn curls of hair hung loosely from the bed as she nestled her face deeper in his shoulder.

Angela smiled before closing the door. Her wet eyes met the tender gaze of her boyfriend.

"Let's drop this at the nurse's desk," she said, managing to keep her small sobs inside her throat.

Holding the flowers in one hand, he wrapped her shoulders with his free arm.

"Yes," he whispered softly, as they headed to the exit.

ooooooo

A small breeze brushed her face. She opened her eyes hoping it was him. But the smile faded when she spotted the nurse placing a new bag for his IV.

"Hey," said an old nurse, "good morning honey."

Brennan rubbed her eyes mechanically.

"Any change?" she asked.

The nurse shook her head negatively, "I'm sorry, I waked you."

"It's okay," answered Brennan with a croaked voice.

The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I brought a tray for you, in case you're hungry," added the nurse, pointing to the night stand.

"Thanks," Brennan replied .

She smiled back at the nurse when she closed the door.

Careful not to mess with Booth's wires, she slowly jumped out of his bed and walked to the chair next to his him. Sitting in the well known chair, she gazed at his tired face. The refreshing smell of coffee invaded the room like a reminder of the passing time.

Her eyes slid on his form before stopping on his raising chest. It had been three days since he spoke. Since then, he hadn't opened his eyes. Tough she didn't count the time he hardly tried to. She breathed deeply. The pain killers had made him sleep as soon as the doctor had filled his IV.

She let out a deep sigh. Sometimes in the night, he would mumble unintelligible things and would become very agitated. Once she had to call the nurse to keep him from pulling his lines in his dream. To help, he was now running a light fever, and she was really beginning to worry.

Yesterday, Rebecca had brought Parker. The little boy had stayed in his father's arms as long as he could before his mother had decided it was time for them to go home.

He had torn her heart to see the small face reddened under the flow of tears each time the small boy had tried to wake up his dad and failed. As Rebecca had left to get something to eat for Parker, Brennan had stepped near the boy.

Blond strands of hair had fallen to his red cheek as small brown eyes had connected with hers. Smiling, she had slid the rebel strand behind his ear before the small face buried into her shoulder. She swallowed remembering the silent sobs of the boy in her arms. His pain was still echoing in her mind reflecting her own fear.

At the end of the day, Booth's doctor had come with the results of new tests he had ordered. After the last time, he wasn't ready to make the same mistake twice. That's when she had learnt some of his organs weren't working at their full capacity. The news wasn't good. She had slowly left herself dropped into the chair and had stared at Booth's still form, her mouth closed. But the doctor had come to know her and he gave her a confident look. To him, it was only a matter of time before they were fully operational. His theory was that the powerful paralytic from the puffer fish had put them 'at sleep' as he had told her. Then, as soon as the nasty poison would be drained of his system, his organs should be able to work fine. But for the moment, he explained, it was better to keep him hooked to the necessary machines. She had nodded slowly acknowledging his words. Tired, she had layn against him as soon as the doctor had left the room.

And so she was back to wait. She stood up and went to the window. Pulling the blinds up, she let the sun bathed the room. The lingering smell of coffee mixed with pastries made her stomach growled. She was hungry but didn't feel incline to eat. Actually, she didn't remember the last time she had really eaten. The first rays of dawn lit the roofs, and she lost her stare between the colorful tiles. She felt suddenly very lonely. Words from an old song crooned in her head. She surprised herself when the words escaped her lips and she sang.

"And I've been drinkin now... Just a little too much..." her throat tightened as the words flooded her mind, "and I don't know how... I can get in touch with you..." she sniffed, silent tears appeared in the corner of her eyes, "Now there'sonly one thing for me to do,..." she struggled on the words, "That's to keep on tryin'..." her voice trailed off, sobbing.

She leant her forehead against the window. The cold blinds soothed her burning forehead. Small tears rolled down her cheeks.

"To get...home... to you..." breathed out a small hoarse voice behind her.

Her heart speeded in her chest. She swallowed her sobs as she turned to the voice.

"Booth?" she called, her voice raising with hope.

Silence filled again the room. She stepped eagerly toward his bed. She hadn't imagined those words. It had to be real. Her heartbeat increased.

"Booth?"

She stared at his pale face waiting for an answer. His features remained still. Gently, she nestled her fingers in his hand and gave him a slight squeeze.

Several minutes passed and nothing happened. She was about to sadly sit back in her chair when she felt it. A very slight pressure around her fingers. If she hadn't expected it, she wouldn't have noticed it. With her heart beating faster than ever, she let the words danced on her lips.

"To keep on tryin'..." she song.

Her deep blue eyes staring at her partner, she waited anxiously. Then it was, faint and weak, but she saw it.

His lips moved slightly.

"To get..." he took a long pause, then with effort he muttered, "...home... to you..." his voice faded in a small exhale.

A wide smile spread from ear to ear on her face.

"I'm here Booth," she lulled him, "I'm here..."

Her hand stroked softly his cheek.

"You're going to be just fine..."

A small tear rolled down her cheek. None of them would ever be alone now.

"You can rest Booth," she said softly.

She wanted to talk to him and see his brown eyes opening on her. However, she knew the effort it had cost him just to speak few words. It was better to wait. Next time, she smiled thinking, he would be able to look at her. Tired, she leant her head next to his hand that she had carefully nestled between her hands and welcomed the darkness.

The sun had already yielded the sky to the stars when she felt a slight squeeze around her fingers. Holding her breath, she stared at the white features lay on a smooth pillow. To Brennan, It was like the world had frozen around her. Every move was in slow motion. The line on the monitor seemed to wave slowly, and went up while several seconds before it slowly went down. Her eyelids shut, she took a slow deep breath and opened them again. He was still in the bed. His chest raising lightly in rhythm of his heartbeat.

It's a matter of time, echoed the doctor's words in her head. She sighed, at least today he had spoken, well sang, but it was a step forward she convinced herself. She glanced at the window where the stars glowed in the dark sky. When she looked down at her partner it was to meet two dark brown eyes staring at her.

"Hey!" she whispered, giving him a tired smile.

He seemed to think, his eyes glued to the ocean of her eyes.

"You...okay?..." he muttered, his voice hoarse.

His throat was dry, and speaking was taking him a lot of strength, but he wanted to be sure she would be okay.

This time she gave him a wide smile. It was so typical of him, she thought. He was the one in the hospital bed and yet he asked her if she was fine. But then, she thought about this emptiness she had felt these last couple days, waiting to know if he was going to be okay. Waiting to know if she would be alone again. She connected into his deep brown stare.

"Yes, I'm now!" she said, knowing perfectly what her words could imply. But she had decided it was time to let her heart be truthful.

His deep gaze penetrated her stare, checking if she was okay. Slowly, he opened his arms and smiled weakly.

"If you're okay then,..." he paused breathing slowly "...I could use a 'guy hug'," he said, taking a pleading smile.

She smiled and leant over him. Careful not to hurt him, she squeezed lightly her arms against him while he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against him. As her hands pressed slightly his ribs, her finger met the rough fabric of the dressing covering his chest. The bandage was tight around his ribs. She then realized how close she had been to lose him. That thought broke a wall inside her. A small hole opened in the dam made of rationality, and she let flood her emotions. Tears started to soak her eyes as she couldn't stop her cries. She didn't want that he notice her pain, he was too exhausted to help her right now. Quietly, she swallowed her silent tears, and buried her face into his good shoulder.

Her frail body hugged him lightly. He smiled at the care she took with him as if he was a rare and fragile artefacts from her lab. He breathed deeply, letting her scent invaded his senses. He had missed her. He had missed her perfume. And he had missed her smile. He knew she needed that hug as much as him, and so he wasn't surprised when he felt her small tremors in his arms. Silent sobs coursed through her body.

He stroked gently her back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear, "It's my fault, I should have been more careful."

Her sobs increased.

"Don't be silly!" she muffled under his chin, swallowing small sobs, "None of us could have seen this coming! Parvati had meant to hurt us and he did!"

"I'm here now," he whispered quietly, stroking softly her cheeks.

"Yes you do," she stated in a small breath.

She slowly broke their embrace. Her blue crystal eyes connected with his.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"I'm starving," he replied, sending one of his charming smile.

"Let me find a nurse," she said, as she excused herself and headed for the nurse's desk.

Resting his head deeply in the pillow, his gaze wandered to the ceiling. The white square reflected the small dim light from the monitor, casting shadows around his bed. A shiver ran through his spine as a dreadful image appeared before him. Beeps increased next to him. He held his breath staring at the thing that crawled slowly toward him.

Fear invaded his mind. He tried to sit but was too weak for that. Not good, he thought gulping.

ooooooo

The nurses had been really kind, thought Brennan. As soon as they spotted her, they had placed a tray of food on their desk so she didn't have to go to the cafeteria. They gave her a complicit smile pointing at the tray. Brennan grabbed the tray and smiled back when she noticed the puddings. She had once told to a nurse, that Booth's favorite food was pudding. And they did remember.

She shot them a wide smile before heading back to his room. He was going to love it, she thought.

Walking, she couldn't suppress that smile from her face. It was weird she thought, always smiling. But the fact that he had finally waked up, and that he felt okay, were enough reasons for her to be happy. Even if she had to admit that his 'guy hug' had been really soothing. It's like he had known she needed one as much as he did. Of course he knows she thought, Booth always knows that kind of thing.

She opened his door a wide smile spread on her face. It faded as soon as she spotted him. Lying on his bed, he was twisting and mumbling indistinct things. Quickly, she put the tray on the night stand and turned to him. A cold feeling sank inside her. His face was blank and covered of sweat. His eyes hollow were glued to the ceiling as if he was watching something.

"Not again," she cursed.

Gently, she grabbed his face between her hands and leant her forehead on his. She felt him trembling under her touch.

"Booth, you're dreaming...wake up..." she said, her voice shaking as well.

No, she thought, I'm not going to lose you again, "stay with me Booth! It's a dream!"

Then, a small glimmer appeared in the depth of his brown eyes as the knowledge of who she was sank into him. He felt two warm hands covering his temples and ears.

"Bones?" he croaked, blinking. A glistening sweat beaded his face, and drops of sweat rolled down to his damp brown hair.

"Yes, Booth, you had a nightmare," her hands was stroking slowly his cheeks, waiting for his rasping breath to calm down.

Smiling she stroked his forehead checking for a fever. He was hot but not that much after what he had just been through, she thought. She sighed. Her eyes connected with his unfocused stare. She blushed when his brown eyes stopped on her, realizing her face was only inches of his. She swallowed as silence filled the room, increasing her pounding heartbeat in her ears. Well, it wasn't the first time she was in this position, she thought, so she shouldn't feel awkward, and yet she felt her cheeks redden. True, but every time he had been unconscious, her rational mind added.

Not wanting to add her own confusion to his, she slowly straightened and stood beside his bed.

He breathed slowly, his eyes glued to her like an anchor, and she realized a part of him was still trying to wake up.

"Sorry, I worried you," he whispered tiredly, blinking as sweat bathing his brows dripped into his eyes.

She smiled, and wiped the sweat from his brows, caressing his face, "it's okay, we're partners right?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes beginning to apprehend his surroundings.

"Right," he repeated with a voice hoarse and his eyes locked into hers.

Then, turning his sight to the night stand, he spotted the tray. A question appeared on his face.

"I brought you something if you're up to," she answered pointing to the tray.

"I am," he drawled.

"Okay," she looked around his bed then spotted what she was looking for.

She pressed on a small button and the head of his bed started to raise slowly. When she judged he was sitting in a position that couldn't hurt him and could allow him to eat, she stopped. She placed the tray on a rolling table and set it in front of him.

Booth's eyes widened when he spotted the puddings.

"Thanks!" he told her shooting her a half smile.

"Not me," she said, "I told once you liked pudding to the nurses, and this tray was waiting for me when I arrived."

"Thanks anyway, Bones... for everything," he said, his voice becoming stronger.

His gaze lasted in her deep blue ocean sight.

"You're welcome," she whispered, unable to look outside his dark overwhelming stare.

He smiled his hand reaching for a pudding. He let out a low moan as he had pulled on a sore muscle.

"Let me help you," she said, grabbing the pudding and taking off the top.

She then handed him the pudding after placing a spoon in the middle of the dessert.

"Thanks," he grabbed it and plunged the spoon inside the creamy hill.

He swallowed a full spoon, and enjoyed the sensation of the cold cream descending his dry throat. He leaned his head against the pillow and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he turned to Brennan.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, a small knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

"Four days," her eyes slid on his tired features watching his reaction.

Fear crossed his eyes. Four days! And he hadn't been there for her! Wincing he put back the pudding on the table thinking.

"Don't worry, we should be okay," she quickly added, seeing the worry in his eyes.

He turned to her, a crease appearing on his forehead, "What do you mean, Bones?"

"I call Fairfax county jail, it appears Benoit had an accident two days ago, he died last night at the infirmary..." just after I got you back, she added mentally. She took a long breath.

"And what kind of accident was that?" he asked frowning.

"It seems he slipped in the stairs."

"In the stairs?" he said with a high pitched voice.

"Yes," she added, "Why?"

"And he didn't die at the same time!" he said skeptic.

"No!" she frowned, puzzled of his behavior, "from what I've been told, they sent him to the infirmary. They said he wasn't in good shape, lots of bruises and broken ribs, and bones..."

"Yeah I bet, stairs do that sometimes," he smirked.

"What are you saying Booth?" she said, widening her eyes, "someone did that to him!"

He nodded slowly. A faint smile creased his face as truth sank in her mind, and he watched as slowly her frown left place to understanding and her face enlightened.

"Who would have..." her voice trailed off as she realized what Booth was thinking, "the guards! But why?"

"Come on Bones!" he stared at her, "the guy literally chopped the head off one of them, he dismembered their buddy, and like if it wasn't enough he peeled off his skin," he winced at the picture appearing in his mind, "and finally used him in a jumbo mumbo magic," he frowned.

"I don't think it happened in this order," she corrected.

" Geez, Bones!" He stared at her, rolling his eyes.

"Well, he was alive when he arrived at the infirmary," she said pouting, "and in fact, he didn't sustain real life threatening wounds..."

"And yet he died," he added.

"Yes, in fact, just after you came back," she muttered.

He looked at her, confused.

"Are you saying, we had some kind of link?"

"I don't know," she admitted, biting her lower lips.

He looked at her thinking. For Brennan to admit she had no clue was a big event. She always had a theory, unless... Then, he caught a shadow crossing the crystal of her eyes. ... Unless, she was afraid of something. He swallowed, thinking about the things she had done for him.

She had crossed a line with this case. She had experienced something he could say as unnatural, and totally irrational. Though, she wasn't a believer at all. Then, he decided to drop the teasing argument he had in mind. They would have plenty of time later. Now, she had to rest. He bet seeing her clothes and her pale skin she hadn't left his side since the med brought him. He sighed, she shouldn't have to live those things, he thought.

He looked straight at her but her sight was wandering in the room.

Thinking she bit her lips, and looked up at him. She wanted to ask him something but didn't know how to start. Then she decided it was best to just throw it.

"Why did you let me win the other night?"

The question took him aback. He frowned, seeking in her eyes the best way to answer.

"What night?" he said, feigning not to remember.

"Booth!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry I don't remember," he said, hoping she would buy it.

Frowning, she didn't repeat her question. If she was right, his answer didn't matter. After all, she had learned one important thing playing cards with her dad, and knowing Booth, it was rational to think he would behave the same way toward her. A small smile curved the corner of her lips.

"What?" he asked, catching the smile on her face.

"Nothing!" she answered quickly. A smile curved her lips as their eyes met, and she surprised herself when she blushed again. Come on, Temperance, she told to herself, what's going on with you?

Booth smiled as he noticed the red spots forming on her cheeks. Temperance Brennan, brilliant anthropologist blushing in my presence, he thought proudly. Then, his smile faded as he realized he was blushing too. She grinned seeing the same discomfort.

Long minutes passed as they tried not to laugh from each other, Brennan worrying to provoke a negative set back in his memory, and Booth fully aware of the flare of pain soaring from his broken ribs.

Becoming more serious, Booth swallowed, "and my aggressor?" he asked, eager to know if he had really taken the bastard with him.

She sighed, "he was dead before we could come to your help."

Tearing memories printed before her, blood spread everywhere, Booth unconscious in the middle of it, his doctor telling her he was dead. And her own helplessness to protect him. She closed her eyes, trying to stop the threatening tears.

Oh good job Booth! he told to himself. You upset her, why did you have to bring that up? He shifted in his bed. Cautious not to tear too much on his sore muscles, he reached out. She felt his soft hand under his chin. When she opened her eyes, he lifted slowly her head.

"Temperance, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here," he said softly.

Her glistening blue eyes sent shivers in his body. Damn he had missed her so much, he thought.

She sniffed, staring at him, "but everything that happened to you is because of me and my stubbornness," she locked into his dark brown stare, "your nightmares... you almost died," she choked on the words, "everything happened because I messed with someone I shouldn't have!"

He leaned closer, tearing on some of his sore muscles. He hid a wince, he would pay that later, he thought sighing. His face now inches of her, he put on his best charming smile, "No, everything happened because you're a good woman Temperance, you help people, and that makes bad guys crazy." She shifted, and looked down. A strand of auburn hair slid to her face. Gently, his fingers put it back behind her ear and slid back to her chin. "So they hate you!" he added, keeping his eyes straight into hers, "Hey, you know you have such a personality that people either hate you or love you!" he teased with a grin.

She smirked, looking into his brown stare, "and you're in which categories."

Hiding a smile, he raised his eyes to the ceiling, "you know what I meant, Bones!"

She eyed him, thinking.

"Anyway," he dropped, "you proved you're stronger than them!" he winked at her.

She smiled back, more confident now. That's my girl, he thought, seeing the twinkling sparkle dancing in her eyes.

"You did pretty well too," she said.

"Thanks Bones!" he said, thinking she was too generous.

To him, it wasn't true, he had made mistakes after mistakes leading to jeopardize his partner's life. No glory in that.

He looked down, losing his sight between the creases of the blanket. In addition, she had to put herself in harm's way to save him from dangers he should have managed. What kind of partner was he? All this suffering he had seen in her eyes when he waked up. He sighed, avoiding her concerned look.

"What a pair!" she stated simply, crossing her arms on her chest.

"What?" he asked, wondering what she was talking about.

"You and me, blaming ourselves..." she said rubbing her eyes and then locked into his tired stare.

"I don't..."

"Sure," she cut, "you're not trying to amend!"

"I..." his voice trailed off as he lost his sight toward the dark sky behind the window.

"Booth, we're partners! Until I met you I had no idea what it means, but now I do!" she took a deep breath, making him nervous, "I'm not all emotional like you," she continued, locking her eyes in his brown moisturized eyes when his face turned to her, "but I do know one thing, people who care about each other tends to blame themselves, even when there was nothing they could have done to prevent a disaster."

"There's always a solution, Bones..."

"Yes, and this time it was to deal with this together," she grinned.

His face relaxed.

"Why do you have to be so smart," he stated, giving her a half smile.

She smirked at his remark, "well maybe because I have a doctorate, and I am a published author, and..."

"Bones," he sighed smirking, "it was rhetorical."

"I know," she grinned.

"Oh, so now you're playing with me," he said, faking to be offended.

"I guess that's my way to say I missed you," she smiled, her cheek blushing lightly.

"I missed you too, Temperance," he whispered not leaving the blue ocean of her eyes.

She gazed at his shining eyes.

"But at least you said I was right!" he teased.

"About what?" she asked incredulous.

"You, being stubborn," he dropped with a cocky smile.

He leaned his head back in the pillow and watched her.

"I'm not," she said, mildly offended.

She was glad his cocky smile was back and stared at him as he shifted in his bed to find a position that wouldn't hurt. He finally decided that resting on his right side would be better.

"Yes, and don't say otherwise, Bones," he added victoriously, pressing his right face into the smooth pillow and curling his legs. Then, he slid his hand under the pillow, "the simple fact that I'm here and talking to you, is the proof I'm right," he drawled, his eyes closing lightly. He was so tired it was hard for him to keep them open.

She closed her mouth, surrendering to his arguments. What could she say? If she hadn't fought for what she believed was true, he would probably be in the morgue by now. She felt the iron bar between her shoulders slowly disappear as she saw him relax and slumbered peacefully in the world of dreams.

She knew the road that awaited them wouldn't be easy as he would have to overcome scary dreams. But she would be there for him, and the creature as well as their enemies were dead or far gone in limbo to threaten them. Only his own ghosts would remained, she thought.

Gently, she brushed his brown hair and kissed his forehead. She leaned back in her chair keeping eye contact with him. She was still smiling when sleep came for her too, her hand lazily stroking his hand. They would be fine, the thought danced in her mind as she welcomed the darkness.

THE END

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To everyone who has followed this story, I would say a big thank you, you have made my day more than once!

I'm thankful for all the great reviews you guys had left for me. And as it's the last chapter, I'd say it's the last chance to tell me what you think of this story. So think about it and Review...

And of course stay tuned, I have plenty of other stories in store, GRIN!!

CC


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